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A STORY OF THE GOLDEN AGE. 


HEROES OF THE OLDEN TIME. 


A STORY OF THE GOLDEN AGE. Illustrated by Howard 

Pyle, ramo $1.50 

THE STORY OF SIEGFRIED. Illustrated by Howard Pyle. 

1.50 

THE STORY OF ROLAND. Illustrated by Reginald B. Birch. 

1.5* 


The Set , 3 vols., in a box, $4.00. 





















•> 
















' 











































































PYRRHUS FINDS PHILOCTETES IN A CAVE, 


HEROES OF THE OLDEN TIME 


A STORY 

OF 

THE GOLDEN AGE 

BY 

JAMES BALDWIN 


Illustrated by Howard Tyle 


NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
1897 


f 

4 







Copyright, 1887, 1888, 

By CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS. 


fpAfiS, fhOM 

hzwm 


NOV 23 tfjg 


To May 


THE FORE WORD. 


You have heard of Homer, and of the two wonderful 
poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, which bear his 
name. No one knows whether these poems were com- 
posed by Homer, or whether they are the work of 
many different poets. And, in fact, it matters very 
little about their authorship. Everybody agrees that 
they are the grandest poems ever sung or written or 
read in this world ; and yet, how few persons, com- 
paratively, have read them, or know any thing about 
them except at second-hand ! Homer commences his 
story, not at the beginning, but “ in the midst of 
things ; ” hence, when one starts out to read the 
Iliad without having made some special prepara- 
tion beforehand, he finds it hard to understand, and 
is tempted, in despair, to stop at the end of the first 
book. Many people are, therefore, content to admire 
the great masterpiece of poetry and story-telling simply 


The Fore Word. 


viii 

because others admire it, and not because they have 
any personal acquaintance with it. 

Now, it is not my purpose to give you a “ simpli- 
fied version” of the Iliad or the Odyssey. There 
are already too many such versions. The only way 
you, or any one, can read Homer, is to read Homer. 
If you do not understand Greek, you can read him in 
one of our many admirable English translations. You 
will find much of the spirit of the original in the 
translations by Bryant, by Lord Derby, and by old 
George Chapman, as well as in the admirable prose 
rendering by Butcher and Lang ; but you can get 
none of it in any so-called simplified version. 

My object in writing this “Story of the Golden 
Age ” has been to pave the way, if I dare say it, to 
an enjoyable reading of Homer, either in translations 
or in the original. I have taken the various legends 
relating to the causes of the Trojan war, and, by as- 
suming certain privileges never yet denied to story- 
tellers, have woven all into one continuous narrative, 
ending where Homer’s story begins. The hero of the 
Odyssey — a character not always to be admired or 
commended — is my hero. And, in telling the story of 
his boyhood and youth, I have taken the opportunity 


The Fore Word. 


IX 


to repeat, for your enjoyment, some of the most beauti- 
ful of the old Greek myths. If I have, now and then, 
given them a coloring slightly different from the ori- 
ginal, you will remember that such is the right of the 
story-teller, the poet, and the artist. The essential 
features of the stories remain unchanged. I have, all 
along, drawn freely from the old tragedians, and now 
and then from Homer himself ; nor have I thought 
it necessary in every instance to mention authorities, 
or to apologize for an occasional close imitation of 
some of the best translations. The pictures of old 
Greek life have, in the main, been derived from the 
Iliad and the Odyssey, and will, I hope, help you to 
a better understanding of those poems when you 
come to make acquaintance directly with them. 

Should you become interested in the “ Story of the 
Golden Age,” as it is here related, do not be disap- 
pointed at its somewhat abrupt ending; for you will 
find it continued by the master-poet of all ages, in a 
manner both inimitable and unapproachable. If you 
are pleased with the discourse of the porter at the 
gate, how much greater shall be your delight when 
you stand in the palace of the king, and hearken to 
the song of the royal minstrel ! 


CONTENTS 


?AGE 


THE FORE WORD v 

ADVENTURE 

I. A Glimpse of the World i 

II. A Voyage on the Sea 13 

III. The Centre of the Earth 29 


IV. The Silver-Bowed Apollo 37 

V. The King of Cattle-Thieves 47 


VI. Two Famous Boar-hunts 62 

VII. At Old Cheiron’s School 79 

Vm. The Golden Apple 95 

IX. The Swineherd 112 

X. The Sea-Robbers of Messene 121 

XI, The Bow of Eurytus 133 

XII. The Most Beautiful Woman in the World . . 146 

XIII. A Race for a Wife 154 

XIV. How a Great Hero met His Master . . . .170 

XV. Long Live the King ....... 183 

XVI. The Children of Prometheus 190 

XVII. A Cause of War 205 

xi 


xii Contents. 

ADVENTURE PAGE 

XVIII. An Unwilling Hero 220 

XIX. Heroes in Strange Garb 226 

XX. Becalmed at Aulis 238 

XXI. The Long Siege 252 

THE AFTER WORD 269 

NOTES 273 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 


Pyrrhus Finds Philoctetes in a Cave, . . Frontispiece 

Odysseus and His Mother, To face p. 8 

Apollo Slaying the Python, 42 

Meleager Refuses to Help in the Defence of the City, 74 
The Silver-Footed Thetis Rising from the Waves, . 96 

The Swineherd Telling His Story to Odysseus, . .116 


Alpheus and Arethusa, 132 

Odysseus Advises King Tyndareus Concerning Helen’s 
Suitors, 154 

Deianeira and the Dying Centaur Nessus, . . . 176 

Prometheus, 198 

Palamedes Tests the Madness of Odysseus, . . . 222 

Odysseus and Menelaus Persuading Agamemnon to Sacri- 
fice Iphigenia, 243 


MAPS . 

A Glimpse of the World (The Map which Phemius Drew 

in the Sand), To face p. 4 

General Map of Greece, 278 



t 


ADVENTURE L 


A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD. 

To the simple-hearted folk who dwelt in that island 
three thousand years ago, there was never a sweeter 
spot than sea-girt Ithaca. Rocky and rugged though 
it may have seemed, yet it was indeed a smiling land 
embosomed in the laughing sea. There the air was 
always mild and pure, and balmy with the breath of 
blossoms ; the sun looked kindly down from a cloudless 
sky, and storms seldom broke the quiet ripple of the 
waters which bathed the shores of that island home. 
On every side but one, the land rose straight up out of 
the deep sea to meet the feet of craggy hills and moun- 
tains crowned with woods. Between the heights were 
many narrow dells green with orchards ; while the gen- 
tler slopes were covered with vineyards, and the steeps 
above them gave pasturage to flocks of long-wooled 
sheep and mountain-climbing goats. 

On that side of the island which lay nearest the ris- 
ing sun, there was a fine, deep harbor ; for there the 
shore bent inward, and only a narrow neck of land lay 
between the eastern waters and the western sea. Close 

i 


« 


2 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


on either side of this harbor arose two mountains, Neri- 
tus and Nereius, which stood like giant watchmen over- 
looking land and sea and warding harm away ; and on 
the neck, midway between these mountains, was the 
king’s white palace, roomy and large, with blossoming 
orchards to the right and the left, and broad lawns in 
front, sloping down to the water’s edge. 

Here, many hundreds of years ago, lived Laertes — 
a man of simple habits, who thought his little island 
home a kingdom large enough, and never sighed for a 
greater. Not many men had seen so much of the world 
as he ; for he had been to Colchis with Jason and the 
Argonauts, and his feet had trod the streets of every 
city in Hellas. Yet in all his wanderings he had seen 
no fairer land than rocky Ithaca. His eyes had been 
dazzled by the brightness of the Golden Fleece, and the 
kings of Argos and of Ilios had shown him the gold 
and gems of their treasure-houses. Yet what cared he 
for wealth other than that which his flocks and vine- 
yards yielded him ? There was hardly a day but that 
he might be seen in the fields guiding his plough, or 
training his vines, or in his orchards pruning his trees, 
or gathering the mellow fruit. He had all the good 
gifts of life that any man needs ; and for them he never 
failed to thank the great Giver, nor to render praises 
to the powers above. His queen, fair Anticleia, daugh- 
ter of the aged chief Autolycus, was a true housewife, 
overseeing the maidens at their tasks, busying herself 
with the distaff and the spindle, or plying the shuttle 


A Glimpse of the World. 


3 


at the loom ; and many were the garments, rich with 
finest needlework, which her own fair fingers had 
fashioned. 

To Laertes and Anticleia one child had been born, — 
a son, who, they hoped, would live to bring renown to 
Ithaca. This boy, as he grew, became strong in body 
and mind far beyond his playfellows ; and those who 
knew him wondered at the shrewdness of his speech no 
less than at the strength and suppleness of his limbs. 
And yet he was small of stature, and neither in face 
nor in figure was he adorned with any of Apollo’s grace. 
On the day that he was twelve years old, he stood with 
his tutor, the bard Phemius, on the top of Mount Neri- 
tus ; below him, spread out like a great map, lay what 
was to him the whole world. Northward, as far as his 
eyes could see, there were islands great and small ; and 
among them Phemius pointed out Taphos, the home of 
a sea-faring race, where Anchialus, chief of warriors, 
ruled. Eastward were other isles, and the low-lying 
shores of Acarnania, so far away that they seemed mere 
lines of hazy green between the purple waters and the 
azure sky. Southward beyond Samos were the wooded 
heights of Zacynthus, and the sea-paths which led to 
Pylos and distant Crete. Westward was the great sea, 
stretching away and away to the region of the setting 
sun ; the watery kingdom of Poseidon, full of strange 
beings and unknown dangers, — a sea upon which none 
but the bravest mariners dared launch their ships. 

The boy had often looked upon these scenes of beauty 


4 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


and mystery, but to-day his heart was stirred with an 
unwonted feeling of awe and of wonder at the great- 
ness and grandeur of the world as it thus lay around 
him. Tears filled his eyes as he turned to his tutor. 
“ How kind it was of the Being who made this pleas- 
ant earth, to set our own sunny Ithaca right in the cen- 
tre of it, and to cover it all over with a blue dome like 
a tent ! But tell me, do people live in all those lands 
that we see ? I know that there are men dwelling in 
Zacynthus and in the little islands of the eastern sea ; 
for their fishermen often come to Ithaca, and I have 
talked with them. And I have heard my father tell of 
his wonderful voyage to Colchis, which is in the region 
of the rising sun ; and my mother often speaks of her 
old home in Parnassus, which also is far away towards 
the dawn. Is it true that there are men, women, and 
children, living in lands which we cannot see? and do 
the great powers above us care for them as for the 
good people of Ithaca ? And is there anywhere another 
king so great as my father Laertes, or another kingdom 
so rich and happy as his ? ” 

Then Phemius told the lad all about the land of 
the Hellenes beyond the narrow sea ; and, in the sand 
at their feet, he drew with a stick a map of all the 
countries known to him. 

“ We cannot see half of the world from this spot,” 
said the bard, “ neither is Ithaca the centre of it, as it 
seems to you. I will draw a picture of it here in the 
sand, and show you where lies every land and every 



A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD. 

The Map which Phemius drew in the Sand. 


A Glimpse of the World . 


5 


sea. Right here in the very centre,” said he, heaping 
up a pile of sand into the shape of a mountain, — 
“ right here in the very centre of the world is Mount 
Parnassus, the home of the Muses ; and in its shadow 
is sacred Delphi, where stands Apollo’s temple. South 
of Parnassus is the Bay of Crissa, sometimes called the 
Corinthian Gulf. The traveller who sails westwardly 
through those waters will have on his right hand the 
pleasant hills and dales of JE tolia and the wooded 
lands of Calydon ; while on his left will rise the rugged 
mountains of Achaia, and the gentler slopes of Elis. 
Here to the south of Elis are Messene, and sandy Pylos 
where godlike Nestor and his aged father Neleus reign. 
Here, to the east, is Arcadia, a land of green pastures 
and sweet contentment, unwashed by any sea; and 
next to it is Argolis, — rich in horses, but richest of all 
in noble men, — and Lacedaemon in Laconia, famous for 
its warriors and its beautiful women. Far to the north 
of Parnassus is Mount Olympus, the heaven-towering 
home of Zeus, and the place where the gods and god- 
desses hold their councils.” 

Then Phemius, as he was often wont to do, began to 
put his words into the form of music ; and he sang a 
song of the world as he supposed it to be. He sang 
of Helios the Sun, and of his flaming chariot and his 
four white steeds, and of the wonderful journey which 
he makes every day above the earth ; and he sang of 
the snowy mountains of Caucasus in the distant east ; 
and of the gardens of the Hesperides even farther to the 


6 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


westward ; and of the land of the Hyperboreans, which 
lies beyond the northern mountains ; and of the sunny 
climes where live the Ethiopians, the farthest distant 
of all earth’s dwellers. Then he sang of the flowing 
stream of Ocean which encircles all lands in its em- 
brace ; and, lastly, of the Islands of the Blest, where 
fair-haired Rhadamanthus rules, and where there is 
neither snow nor beating rains, but everlasting spring, 
and breezes balmy with the breath of life. 

“O Phemius!” cried the boy, as the bard laid aside 
his harp, “ I never knew that the world was so large. 
Can it be that there are so many countries and so 
many strange people beneath the same sky ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Phemius, “ the world is very broad, 
and our Ithaca is but one of the smallest of a thousand 
lands upon which Helios smiles, as he makes his daily 
journey through the skies. It is not given to one man 
to know all these lands ; and happiest is he whose only 
care is for his home, deeming it the centre around 
which the world is built.” 

“ If only the half of what you have told me be true,” 
said the boy, “ I cannot rest until I have seen some of 
those strange lands, and learned more about the won- 
derful beings which live in them. I cannot bear to 
think of being always shut up within the narrow 
bounds of little Ithaca.” 

“ My dear boy,” said Phemius, laughing, “ your mind 
has been greatly changed within the past few moments. 
When we came here, a little while ago, you thought 


A Glimpse of the World. 


7 


that Neritus was the grandest mountain in the world, 
and that Ithaca was the centre round which the earth 
was built. Then you were cheerful and contented ; 
but now you are restless and unhappy, because you 
have learned of possibilities such as, hitherto, you had 
not dreamed about. Your eyes have been opened to 
see and to know the world as it is, and you are no 
longer satisfied with that which Ithaca can give 
you.” 

“ But why did you not tell me these things before ? ” 
asked the boy. 

“ It was your mother’s wish,” answered the bard, 
“ that you should not know them until to-day. Do you 
remember what day this is ? ” 

“ It is my twelfth birthday. And I remember, too, 
that there was a promise made to my grandfather, 
that when I was twelve years old I should visit him in 
his strong halls on Mount Parnassus. I mean to ask 
my mother about it at once.” 

And without waiting for another word from Phemius, 
the lad ran hurriedly down the steep pathway, and was 
soon at the foot of the mountain. Across the fields 
he hastened, and through the vineyards where the 
vines, trained by his father’s own hand, were already 
hanging heavy with grapes. He found his mother in 
the inner hall, sitting before the hearth, and twisting 
from her distaff threads of bright sea-purple, while her 
maidens plied their tasks around her. He knelt upon 
the marble floor, and gently clasped his mother’s knees. 


8 


A Sto7y of the Golden Age . 


“ Mother,” he said, “I come to ask a long-promised 
boon of you.” 

“What is it, my son?” asked the queen, laying aside 
her distaff. “If there be any thing in Ithaca that I 
can give you, you shall surely have it.” 

“ I want nothing in Ithaca,” answered the boy ; “ I 
want to see more of this great world than I ever yet 
have known. And now that I am twelve years old, 
you surely will not forget the promise, long since made, 
that I should spend the summer with my grandfather 
at Parnassus. Let me go very soon, I pray ; for I tire 
of this narrow Ithaca.” 

The queen’s eyes filled with tears as she answered, 
“ You shall have your wish, my son. The promise given 
both to you and to my father must be fulfilled. For, 
when you were but a little babe, Autolycus came to 
Ithaca. And one evening, as he feasted at your father’s 
table, your nurse, Dame Eurycleia, brought you into 
the hall, and put you into his arms. ‘ Give this dear 
babe, O king, a name,’ said she. ‘ He is thy daughter’s 
son, the heir to Ithaca’s rich realm ; and we hope that 
he will live to make his name and thine remembered.’ 

“Then Autolycus smiled, and gently dandled you 
upon his knees. ‘ My daughter, and my daughter’s lord,’ 
said he, ‘ let this child’s name be Odysseus ; for he shall 
visit many lands and climes, and wander long upon the 
tossing sea. Yet wheresoever the Fates may drive him, 
his heart will ever turn to Ithaca his home. Call him 
by the name which I have given ; and when his twelfth 








iow.-W 








ODYSSEUS AND HIS MOTHER 





















































; 


























' 





■ 







• 




• 












A Glimpse of the World. 


9 


birthday shall have passed, send him to my strong halls 
in the shadow of Parnassus, where his mother in her 
girlhood dwelt. Then I will share my riches with him, 
and send him back to Ithaca rejoicing ! ’ So spake my 
father, great Autolycus ; and before we arose from that 
feast, we pledged our word that it should be with you 
even as he wished. And your name, Odysseus, has 
every day recalled to mind that feast and our binding 
words.” 

“Oh that I could go at once, dear mother!” said 
Odysseus, kissing her tears away. “ I would come 
home again very soon. I would stay long enough to 
have the blessing of my kingly grandfather; I would 
climb Parnassus, and listen to the sweet music of the 
Muses ; I would drink one draught from the Castalian 
spring of which you have so often told me ; I would 
ramble one day among the groves and glens, that per- 
chance I might catch a glimpse of Apollo or of his 
huntress sister Artemis ; and then I would hasten back 
to Ithaca, and would never leave you again.” 

“ My son,” then said Laertes, who had come unheard 
into the hall, and had listened to the boy’s earnest 
words, — “ my son, you shall have your wish, for I know 
that the Fates have ordered it so. We have long looked 
forward to this day, and for weeks past we have been 
planning for your journey. My stanchest ship is ready 
to carry you over the sea, and needs only to be launched 
into the bay. Twelve strong oarsmen are sitting now 
upon the beach, waiting for orders to embark. To- 


IO 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


morrow, with the bard Phemius as your friend and 
guide, you may set forth on your voyage to Parnassus. 
Let us go down to the shore at once, and offer prayers 
to Poseidon, ruler of the sea, that he may grant you 
favoring winds and a happy voyage.” 

Odysseus kissed his mother again, and, turning, fol- 
lowed his father from the hall. 

Then Anticleia rose, and bade the maidens hasten to 
make ready the evening meal ; but she herself went 
weeping to her own chamber, there to choose the gar- 
ments which her son should take with him upon his 
journey. Warm robes of wool, and a broidered tunic 
which she with her own hands had spun and woven, 
she folded and laid with care in a little wooden chest ; 
and with them she placed many a little comfort, fruit 
and sweetmeats, such as she rightly deemed would please 
the lad. Then when she had closed the lid, she threw 
a strong cord around the chest, and tied it firmly down. 
This done, she raised her eyes towards heaven, and lift- 
ing up her hands, she prayed to Pallas Athene : — 

“ O queen of the air and sky, hearken to my prayer, 
and help me lay aside the doubting fears which creep 
into my mind, and cause these tears to flow. For now 
my boy, unused to hardships, and knowing nothing of 
the world, is to be sent forth on a long and dangerous 
voyage. I tremble lest evil overtake him; but more 
I fear, that, with the lawless men of my father’s house- 
hold, he shall forget his mother’s teachings, and stray 
from the path of duty. Do thou, 0 queen, go with him 


A Glimpse of the World. 


1 1 


as his guide and guard, keep him from harm, and bring 
him safe again to Ithaca and his loving mother’s arms.” 

Meanwhile Laertes and the men of Ithaca stood 
upon the beach, and offered up two choice oxen to 
Poseidon, ruler of the sea ; and they prayed him that 
he would vouchsafe favoring winds and quiet waters 
and a safe journey to the bold voyagers who to-morrow 
would launch their ship upon the deep. And when the 
sun began to sink low down in the west, some sought 
their homes, and others went up to the king’s white 
palace to tarry until after the evening meal. 

Cheerful was the feast ; and as the merry jest went 
round, no one seemed more free from care than King 
Laertes. And when all had eaten of the food, and had 
tasted of the red wine made from the king’s own vint- 
age, the bard Phemius arose, and tuned his harp, and 
sang many sweet and wonderful songs. He sang of 
the beginning of things ; of the broad-breasted Earth, 
the mother of created beings ; of the sky, and the sea, 
and the mountains ; of the mighty race of Titans, — 
giants who once ruled the earth ; of great Atlas, who 
holds the sky-dome upon his shoulders ; of Cronos and 
old Oceanus ; of the war which for ten years raged on 
Mount Olympus, until Zeus hurled his unfeeling father 
Cronos from the throne, and seized the sceptre for 
himself. 

When Phemius ended his singing, the guests with- 
drew from the hall, and each went silently to his own 
home ; and Odysseus, having kissed his dear father and 


12 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


mother, went thoughtfully to his sleeping-room high up 
above the great hall. With him went his nurse, Dame 
Eurycleia, carrying the torches. She had been a 
princess once; but hard fate and cruel war had over- 
thrown her father’s kingdom, and had sent her forth a 
captive and a slave. Laertes had bought her of her 
captors for a hundred oxen, and had given her a place 
of honor in his household next to Anticleia. She loved 
Odysseus as she would love her own dear child ; for, 
since his birth, she had nursed and cared for him. 
She now, as was her wont, lighted him to his chamber ; 
she laid back the soft coverings of his bed ; she 
smoothed the fleeces, and hung his tunic within easy 
reach. Then with kind words of farewell for the night, 
she quietly withdrew, and closed the door, and pulled 
the thong outside which turned the fastening latch. 
Odysseus wrapped himself among the fleeces of his 
bed, and soon was lost in slumber . 1 


1 See Note i at the end of this volume. 


ADVENTURE //. 


A VOYAGE ON THE SEA. 

Early the next morning, while yet the dawn was 
waiting for the sun, Odysseus arose and hastened to 
make ready for his journey. The little galley which 
was to carry him across the sea had been already 
launched, and was floating close to the shore ; and the 
oarsmen stood upon the beach impatient to begin the 
voyage. The sea-stores, and the little chest in which 
the lad’s wardrobe lay, were brought on board, and 
placed beneath the rowers’ benches. The old men of 
Ithaca, and the boys and the maidens, hurried down to 
the shore, that they might bid the voyagers God-speed. 
Odysseus, when all was ready, spoke a few last kind 
words to his mother and sage Laertes, and then with a 
swelling heart went up the vessel’s side, and sat down 
in the stern. And Phemius the bard, holding his 
sweet-toned harp, followed him, and took his place in 
the prow. Then the sailors loosed the moorings, and 
went on board, and, sitting on the rowers’ benches, 
wielded the long oars ; and the little vessel, driven by 
their well-timed strokes, turned slowly about, and then 

13 


H 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


glided smoothly across the bay ; and the eyes of all on 
shore were wet with tears as they prayed the rulers of 
the air and the sea that the voyagers might reach their 
wished-for port in safety, and in due time come back 
unharmed to Ithaca 

No sooner had the vessel reached the open sea, than 
Pallas Athene sent after it a gentle west wind to urge 
it on its way. As the soft breeze, laden with the 
perfumes of blossoming orchards, stirred the water into 
rippling waves, Phemius bade the rowers lay aside their 
oars, and hoist the sail. They heeded his behest, and 
lifting high the slender mast, they bound it in its place ; 
then they stretched aloft the broad white sail, and the 
west wind caught and filled it, and drove the little bark 
cheerily over the waves. And the grateful crew sat 
down upon the benches, and with Odysseus and Phe- 
mius the bard, they joined in offering heartfelt thanks 
to Pallas Athene, who had so kindly prospered them. 
And by and by Phemius played soft melodies on his 
harp, such as the sea-nymphs liked to hear. And all 
that summer day the breezes whispered in the rigging, 
and the white waves danced in the vessel’s wake, and 
the voyagers sped happily on their way. 

In the afternoon, when they had begun somewhat to 
tire of the voyage, Phemius asked Odysseus what they 
should do to lighten the passing hours. 

“Tell us some story of the olden time,” said Odys- 
seus. And the bard, who was never better pleased 
than when recounting some wonderful tale, sat down 


A Voyage on the Sea. 


*5 


in the midships, where the oarsmen could readily hear 
him, and told the strange story of Phaethon, the rash 
son of Helios Hyperion. 

“ Among the immortals who give good gifts to men, 
there is no one more kind than Helios, the bestower 
of light and heat. Every morning when the Dawn 
with her rosy fingers illumes the eastern sky, good 
Helios rises from his golden couch, and from their 
pasture calls his milk-white steeds. By name he calls 
them, — 

“ * Eos, yEthon, Bronte, Astrape ! ’ 

“ Each hears his master’s voice, and comes obedient. 
Then about their bright manes and his own yellow 
locks he twines wreaths of sweet-smelling flowers, — 
amaranths and daffodils and asphodels from the heaven- 
ly gardens. And the Hours come and harness the 
steeds to the burning sun-car, and put the reins into 
Helios Hyperion’s hands. He mounts to his place, he 
speaks, — and the winged team soars upward into the 
morning air ; and all earth’s children awake, and give 
thanks to the ruler of the Sun for the new day which 
smiles down upon them. 

“ Hour after hour, with steady hand, Helios guides 
his steeds ; and the flaming car is borne along the 
sun-road through the sky. And when the day’s work 
is done, and sable night comes creeping over the earth, 
the steeds, the car, and the driver sink softly down 
to the western Ocean’s stream, where a golden vessel 


i6 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


waits to bear them back again, swiftly and unseen, to 
the dwelling of the Sun in the east. There, under the 
home-roof, Helios greets his mother and his wife and 
his dear children ; and there he rests until the Dawn 
again leaves old Ocean’s bed, and blushing comes to 
bid him journey forth anew. 

“ One son had Helios, Phaethon the Gleaming, and 
among the children of men there was no one more fair. 
And the great heart of Helios beat with love for his 
earth-child, and he gave him rich gifts, and kept nothing 
from him. 

“ And Phaethon, as he grew up, became as proud as 
he was fair, and wherever he went he boasted of his 
kinship to the Sun ; and men when they looked upon 
his matchless form and his radiant features believed his 
words, and honored him as the heir of Helios Hyperion. 
But one Epaphos, a son of Zeus, sneered. 

“‘Thou a child of Helios!’ he said; ‘what folly! 
Thou canst show nothing wherewith to prove thy kin 
ship, save thy fair face and thy yellow hair ; and there 
are many maidens in Hellas who have those, and are 
as beautiful as thou. Manly grace and handsome fea- 
tures are indeed the gifts of the gods ; but it is by 
godlike deeds alone that one can prove his kinship to 
the immortals. While Helios Hyperion — thy father, 
as thou wouldst have it — guides his chariot above the 
clouds, and showers blessings upon the earth, what dost 
thou do? What, indeed, but dally with thy yellow 
locks, and gaze upon thy costly clothing, while all the 


A Voyage on the Sea. 


l 7 


time thy feet are in the dust, and the mire of the earth 
holds them fast ? If thou hast kinship with the gods, 
prove it by doing the deeds of the gods ! If thou art 
Helios Hyperion’s son, guide for one day his chariot 
through the skies.’ 

“Thus spoke Epaphos. And the mind of Phaethon 
was filled with lofty dreams ; and, turning away from 
the taunting tempter, he hastened to his father’s house. 

“Never-tiring Helios, with his steeds and car, had 
just finished the course of another day ; and with words 
of warmest love he greeted his earth-born son. 

“ ‘ Dear Phaethon,’ he said, ‘ what errand brings thee 
hither at this hour, when the sons of men find rest in 
slumber ? Is there any good gift that thou wouldst 
have ? Say what it is, and it shall be thine.’ 

“ And Phaethon wept. And he said, ‘ Father, there 
are those who say that I am not thy son. Give me, 
I pray thee, a token whereby I can prove my kinship 
to thee.’ 

“And Helios answered, ‘Mine it is to labor every 
day, and short is the rest I have, that so earth’s chil- 
dren may have light and life. Yet tell me what token 
thou cravest, and I swear that I will give it thee.’ 

“‘Father Helios,’ said the youth, ‘this is the token 
that I ask : Let me sit in thy place to-morrow, and 
drive thy steeds along the pathway of the skies.’ 

“Then was the heart of Helios full sad, and he said 
to Phaethon, ‘ My child, thou knowest not what thou 
askest. Thou art not like the gods ; and there lives 


i8 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


no man who can drive my steeds, or guide the sun- 
car through the skies. I pray thee ask some other 
boon.’ 

“ But Phaethon would not. 

“‘I will have this boon or none. I will drive thy 
steeds to-morrow, and thereby make proof of my birth- 
right.’ 

“Then Helios pleaded long with his son that he 
would not aspire to deeds too great for weak man to 
undertake. But wayward Phaethon would not hear. 
And when the Dawn peeped forth, and the Hours har- 
nessed the steeds to the car, his father sadly gave the 
reins into his hands. 

“‘My love for thee cries out, “Refrain, refrain!” 
Yet for my oath’s sake, I grant thy wish.’ 

“ And he hid his face, and wept. 

“ And Phaethon leaped into the car, and lashed the 
steeds with his whip. Up they sprang, and swift as a 
storm-cloud they sped high into the blue vault of 
heaven. For well did they know that an unskilled 
hand held the reins, and proudly they scorned his 
control. 

“The haughty heart of Phaethon sank within him, 
and all his courage failed ; and the long reins dropped 
from his nerveless grasp. 

“ ‘ Glorious father,’ he cried in agony, ‘ thy words 
were true. Would that I had hearkened to thy warn- 
ing, and obeyed ! ’ 

“And the sun-steeds, mad with their new-gained free- 


A Voyage on the Sea . 


19 


dom, wildly careened in mid-heaven, and then plunged 
downward towards the earth. Close to the peopled 
plains they dashed and soared, dragging the car behind 
them. The parched earth smoked ; the rivers turned 
to vaporous clouds ; the trees shook off their scorched 
leaves and died ; and men and beasts hid in the caves 
and rocky clefts, and there perished with thirst and the 
unbearable heat. 

“‘O Father Zeus!’ prayed Mother Earth, ‘send help 
to thy children, or they perish through this man’s pre- 
sumptuous folly ! ’ 

“ Then the Thunderer from his high seat hurled his 
dread bolts, and unhappy Phaethon fell headlong from 
the car; and the fire-breathing steeds, affrighted but 
obedient, hastened back to the pastures of Helios on 
the shores of old Ocean’s stream. 

“Phaethon fell into the river which men call Eriadnos, 
and his broken-hearted sisters wept for him ; and as 
they stood upon the banks and bewailed his unhappy 
fate, Father Zeus in pity changed them into tall green 
poplars ; and their tears, falling into the river, were 
hardened into precious yellow amber. But the daugh- 
ters of Hesperus, through whose country this river 
flows, built for the fair hero a marble tomb, close by 
the sounding sea. And they sang a song about Phae- 
thon, and said that although he had been hurled to the 
earth by the thunderbolts of angry Zeus, yet he died 
not without honor, for he had his heart set on the 
doing of great deeds.” 


20 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


As Phemius ended his story, Odysseus, who had been 
too intent upon listening to look around him, raised his 
eyes and uttered a cry of joy; for he saw that they had 
left the open sea behind them, and were entering the 
long and narrow gulf between Achaia and the yEtolian 
land. The oarsmen, who, too, had been earnest listen- 
ers, sprang quickly to their places, and hastened to ply 
their long oars ; for now the breeze had begun to 
slacken, and the sail hung limp and useless upon the 
ship’s mast. Keeping close to the northern shore they 
rounded capes and headlands, and skirted the mouths 
of deep inlets, where Phemius said strange monsters 
often lurked in wait for unwary or belated seafarers. 
But they passed all these places safely, and saw no 
living creature, save some flocks of sea-birds flying 
among the cliffs, and one lone, frightened fisherman, 
who left his net upon the sands, and ran to hide himself 
in the thickets of underbrush which skirted the beach. 

Late in the day they came to the mouth of a little 
harbor which, like one in Ithaca, was a favored haunt 
of old Phorcys the elder of the sea. Here the cap- 
tain of the oarsmen said they must tarry for the night, 
for the sun was already sinking in the west, and after 
nightfall no ship could be guided with safety along 
these shores. A narrow strait between high cliffs led 
into the little haven, which was so sheltered from the 
winds that vessels could ride there without their haw- 
sers, even though fierce storms might rage upon the 
sea outside. Through this strait the ship was guided, 


A Voyage on the Sea. 


21 


urged by the strong arms of the rowers ; and so swiftly 
did it glide across the harbor that it was driven upon 
the shelving beach at the farther side, and stopped not 
until it lay full half its length high upon the warm, dry 
sand. 

Then the crew lifted out their store of food, and their 
vessels for cooking; and while some took their bows 
and went in search of game, others kindled a fire, and 
hastened to make ready the evening meal. Odysseus 
and his tutor, when they had climbed out of the ship, 
sauntered along the beach, intent to know what kind of 
a place it was to which fortune had thus brought 
them. They found that it was in all things a pattern 
and counterpart of the little bay of Phorcys in their 
own Ithaca. 1 

Near the head of the harbor grew an olive-tree, be- 
neath whose spreading branches there was a cave, in 
which, men said, the Naiads sometimes dwelt. In this 
cave were great bowls and jars and two-eared pitchers, 
all of stone ; and in the clefts of the rock the wild bees 
had built their comb, and filled it with yellow honey. 
In this cave, too, were long looms on which, from their 
spindles wrought of stone, the Naiads were thought to 
weave their purple robes. Close by the looms, a tor- 
rent of sweet water gushed from the rock, and flowed 
in crystal streams down into the bay. Two doorways 
opened into the cave : one from the north, through 
which mortal man might enter, and one from the south, 

1 See the description of this bay, in the Odyssey, Book xiii. 1 . 102. 


22 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


kept as the pathway of Phorcys and the Naiads. But 
Odysseus and his tutor saw no signs of any of these 
beings : it seemed as if the place had not been visited 
for many a month. 

After the voyagers had partaken of their meal, they 
sat for a long time around the blazing fire upon the 
beach, and each told some marvellous story of the sea. 
For their thoughts were all upon the wonders of the 
deep. 

“We should not speak of Poseidon, the king of 
waters,” said the captain, “save with fear upon our lips, 
and reverence in our hearts. For he it is who rules the 
sea, as his brother Zeus controls the land ; and no one 
dares to dispute his right. Once, when sailing on the 
A^gaean Sea, I looked down into the depths, and saw his 
lordly palace, — a glittering, golden mansion, built on 
the rocks at the bottom of the mere. Quickly did we 
spread our sails aloft, and the friendly breezes and our 
own strong arms hurried us safely away from that 
wonderful but dangerous station. In that palace of 
the deep, Poseidon eats and drinks and makes merry 
with his friends, the dwellers in the sea ; and there he 
feeds and trains his swift horses, — horses with hoofs 
of bronze and flowing golden manes. And when he 
harnesses these steeds to his chariot, and wields above 
them his well-wrought lash of gold, you should see, as 
I have seen, how he rides in terrible majesty above the 
waves. And the creatures of the sea pilot him on his 
way. and gambol on either side of the car, and follow 


A Voyage on the Sea. 


23 


dancing in his wake. But when he smites the waters 
with the trident which he always carries in his hand, 
the waves roll mountain high, the lightnings flash, and 
the thunders peal, and the earth is shaken to its very 
core. Then it is that man bewails his own weakness, 
and prays to the powers above for help and succor.” 

“ I have never seen the palace of Poseidon,” said the 
helmsman, speaking slowly ; “ but once, when sailing to 
far-off Crete, our ship was overtaken by a storm, and 
for ten days we were buffeted by winds and waves, 
and driven into unknown seas. After this, we vainly 
tried to find again our reckonings, but we knew not 
which way to turn our vessel’s prow. Then, when the 
storm had ended, we saw upon a sandy islet great 
/roops of seals and sea-calves couched upon the beach, 
and basking in the warm rays of the sun. 

“ ‘ Let us cast anchor, and wait here,’ said our cap- 
tain ; Tor surely Proteus, the old man of the sea who 
keeps Poseidon’s herds, will come erewhile to look after 
these sea-beasts.’ 

“ And he was right ; for at noonday the herdsman of 
the sea came up out of the brine, and went among his 
sea-calves, and counted them, and called each one by 
name. When he was sure that not even one was miss- 
ing, he lay down among them upon the sand. Then 
we landed quickly from our vessel, and rushed silently 
upon him, and seized him with our hands. The old 
master of magic tried hard to escape from our clutches, 
and did not forget his cunning. First he took the form 


24 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


of a long-maned lion, fierce and terrible ; but when this 
did not affright us, he turned into a scaly serpent ; then 
into a leopard, spotted and beautiful ; then into a wild 
boar, with gnashing tusks and foaming mouth. Seeing 
that by none of these forms he could make us loosen 
our grasp upon him, he took the shape of running 
water, as if to glide through our fingers ; then he be- 
came a tall tree full of leaves and blossoms ; and, lastly, 
he became himself again. And he pleaded with us for 
his freedom, and promised to tell us any thing that we 
desired, if we would only let him go. 

‘“Tell us which way we shall sail, and how far we 
shall go, that we may surely reach the fair harbor of 
Crete/ said our captain. 

“ ‘ Sail with the wind two days/ said the elder of the 
sea, ‘ and on the third morning ye shall behold the hills 
of Crete, and the pleasant port which you seek.’ 

“ Then we loosened our hold upon him, and old Pro- 
teus plunged into the briny deep ; and we betook our- 
selves to our ship, and sailed away before the wind. 
And on the third day, as he had told us, we sighted the 
fair harbor of Crete.” 

As the helmsman ended his story, his listeners 
smiled ; for he had told them nothing but an old tale, 
which every seaman had learned in his youth, — the 
story of Proteus, symbol of the ever-changing forms of 
matter. Just then Odysseus heard a low, plaintive 
murmur, seeming as if uttered by some lost wanderer 
away out upon the sea. 


A Voyage on the Sea. 


2 5 


“ What is that ?” he asked, turning towards Phemius. 

“ It is Glaucus, the soothsayer of the sea, lamenting 
that he is mortal,” answered the bard. “Long time 
ago, Glaucus was a poor fisherman who cast his nets 
into these very waters, and built his hut upon the .Eto- 
lian shore, not very far from the place where we now 
sit. Before his hut there was a green, grassy spot, 
where he often sat to dress the fish which he caught. 
One day he carried a basketful of half-dead fish to that 
spot, and turned them out upon the ground. Wonder- 
ful to behold ! Each fish took a blade of grass in his 
mouth, and forthwith jumped into the sea. The next 
day he found a hare in the woods, and gave chase to it. 
The frightened creature ran straight to the grassy plat 
before his hut, seized a green spear of grass between 
his lips, and dashed into the sea. 

“ ‘ Strange what kind of grass that is ! ’ cried Glau- 
cus. Then he pulled up a blade, and tasted it. Quick 
as thought, he also jumped into the sea; and there he 
wanders evermore among the seaweeds and the sand 
and the pebbles and the sunken rocks ; and, although 
he has the gift of soothsaying, and can tell what things 
are in store for mortal men, he mourns and laments 
because he cannot die.” 

Then Phemius, seeing that Odysseus grew tired of 
his story, took up his harp, and touched its strings, and 
sang a song about old Phorcys, — the son of the Sea 
and Mother Earth, — and about his strange daughters 
who dwell in regions far remote from the homes of men. 


26 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


He touched his harp lightly, and sang a sweet lullaby, 
— a song about the Sirens, the fairest of all the daugh- 
ters of old Phorcys. These have their home in an 
enchanted island in the midst of the western sea ; and 
they sit in a green meadow by the shore, and they 
sing evermore of empty pleasures and of phantoms 
of delight and of vain expectations. And woe is 
the wayfaring man who hearkens to them ! for by 
their bewitching tones they lure him to his death, 
and never again shall he see his dear wife or his 
babes, who wait long and vainly for his home-coming. 
Stop thine ears, O voyager on the sea, and listen not 
to the songs of the Sirens, sing they ever so sweetly ! 
for the white flowers which dot the meadow around 
them are not daisies, but the bleached bones of their 
victims. 

Then Phemius smote the chords of his harp, and 
played a melody so weird and wild that Odysseus 
sprang to his feet, and glanced quickly around him, as 
if he thought to see some grim and horrid shape threat- 
ening him from among the gathering shadows. And 
this time the bard sang a strange, tumultuous song, 
concerning other daughters of old Phorcys, — the three 
Gray Sisters, with shape of swan, who have but one 
tooth for all, and one common eye, and who sit forever 
on a barren rock near the farthest shore of Ocean’s 
stream. Upon them the sun doth never cast a beam, 
and the moon doth never look ; but, horrible and alone, 
they sit clothed in their yellow robes, and chatter 


A Voyage on the Sea. 


27 


threats and meaningless complaints to the waves which 
dash against their rock. 

Not far away from these monsters once sat the three 
Gorgons, daughters also of old Phorcys. These were 
clothed with bat-like wings, and horror sat upon their 
faces. They had ringlets of snakes for hair, and their 
teeth were like the tusks of swine, and their hands were 
talons of brass ; and no mortal could ever gaze upon 
them and breathe again. But there came, one time, a 
young hero to those regions, — Perseus the godlike ; 
and he snatched the eye of the three Gray Sisters, and 
flung it far into the depths of Lake Tritonis ; and he 
slew Medusa, the most fearful of the Gorgons, and car- 
ried the head of the terror back to Hellas with him as 
a trophy. 

The bard chose next a gentler theme : and, as he 
touched his harp, the listeners fancied that they heard 
the soft sighing of the south wind, stirring lazily the 
leaves and blossoms ; they heard the plashing of foun- 
tains, and the rippling of water-brooks, and the songs 
of little birds ; and their minds were carried away in 
memory to pleasant gardens in a summer-land. And 
Phemius sang of the Hesperides, or the maidens of the 
West, who also, men say, are the daughters of Phorcys 
the ancient. The Hesperian land in which they dwell 
is a country of delight, where the trees are laden with 
golden fruit, and every day is a sweet dream of joy and 
peace. And the clear-voiced Hesperides sing and dance 
in the sunlight always ; and their only task is to guard 


28 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


the golden apples which grow there, and which Mother 
Earth gave to Here the queen upon her wedding-day. 

Here Phemius paused. Odysseus, lulled by the soft 
music, and overcome by weariness, had lain down upon 
the sand and fallen asleep. At a sign from the bard, 
the seamen lifted him gently into the ship, and, cover- 
ing him with warm skins, they left him to slumber 
through the night. 


ADVENTURE III. 


THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH. 

The next morning, before the sun had risen, the 
voyagers launched their ship again, and sailed out of 
the little harbor into the long bay of Crissa. And 
Pallas Athene sent the west wind early, to help them 
forward on their way ; and they spread their sail, and 
instead of longer hugging the shore, they ventured 
boldly out into the middle of the bay. All day long 
the ship held on its course, skimming swiftly through 
the waves like a great white-winged bird ; and those 
on board beguiled the hours with song and story as on 
the day before. But when the evening came, they 
were far from land ; and the captain said that as the 
water was deep, and he knew the sea quite well, they 
would not put into port, but would sail straight on all 
night. And so, when the sun had gone down, and the 
moon had risen, flooding earth and sea with her pure, 
soft light, Odysseus wrapped his warm cloak about 
him, and lay down again to rest upon his bed of skins 
between the rowers’ benches. But the helmsman stood 
at his place, and guided the vessel over the shadowy 

29 


30 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


waves ; and through the watches of the night, the 
west wind filled the sails, and the dark keel of the little 
bark ploughed the waters, and Pallas Athene blessed 
the voyage. 

When, at length, the third morning came, and Helios 
arose at summons of the Dawn, Odysseus awoke. To 
his great surprise, he heard no longer the rippling of 
the waves upon the vessel’s sides, nor the flapping 
of the sail in the wind, nor yet the rhythmic dipping of 
the oars into the sea. He listened, and the sound 
of merry laughter came to his ears, and he heard the 
twittering of many birds, and the far-away bleating of 
little lambs. He rubbed his eyes, and sat up, and 
looked about him. The ship was no longer floating on 
the water, but had been drawn high up on a sandy 
beach ; and the crew were sitting beneath an olive- 
tree, at no great distance from the shore, listening to 
the melodies with which a strangely-garbed shepherd 
welcomed on his flute the coming of another day. 

Odysseus arose quickly, and leaped out upon the 
beach. Then it was that a scene of beauty and quiet 
grandeur met his gaze, — a scene, the like of which had 
never entered his thoughts nor visited his dreams. He 
saw, a few miles to the northward, a group of high 
mountains whose summits towered above the clouds ; 
and highest among them all were twin peaks whose 
snow-crowned tops seemed but little lower than the 
skies themselves. And as the light of the newly risen 
sun gilded the gray crags, and painted the rocky slopes, 


The Centre of the Earth. 


3i 


and shone bright among the wooded uplands, the whole 
scene appeared like a living picture, glorious with purple 
and gold and azure, and brilliant with sparkling gems. 

“ Is it not truly a fitting place for the home of beauty 
and music, the dwelling of Apollo, and the favored 
haunt of the Muses ? ” asked Phemius, drawing near, 
and observing the boy’s wondering delight. 

“ Indeed it is,” said Odysseus, afraid to turn his eyes 
away, lest the enchanting vision should vanish like a 
dream. “But is that mountain really Parnassus, and 
is our journey so nearly at an end ? ” 

“Yes,” answered the bard, “that peak which towers 
highest toward the sky is great Parnassus, the centre 
of the earth; and in the rocky cleft which you can 
barely see between the twin mountains, stands sacred 
Delphi and the favored temple of Apollo. Lower down, 
and on the other side of the mountain, is the white- 
hailed dwelling of old Autolycus, your mother’s father. 
Although the mountain seems so near, it is yet a long 
and toilsome journey thither, — a journey which we 
must make on foot, and by pathways none the safest. 
Come, let us join the sailors under the olive-tree ; and 
when we have breakfasted, we will begin our journey 
to Parnassus.” 

The strange shepherd had killed the fattest sheep 
of his flock, and had roasted the choicest parts upon 
a bed of burning coals ; and when Odysseus and his 
tutor came to the olive-tree, they found a breakfast fit 
indeed for kings, set out ready before them. 


32 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


“ Welcome, noble strangers,” said the shepherd; 
“ welcome to the land most loved of the Muses. I 
give you of the best of all that I have, and I am ready 
to serve you and do your bidding.” 

Phemius thanked the shepherd for his kindness ; and 
while they sat upon the grass, and ate of the pleasant 
food which had been provided, he asked the simple 
swain many questions about Parnassus. 

“ I have heard that Parnassus is the hub around which 
the great earth-wheel is built. Is it really true ? ” 

“ A long, long time ago,” answered the man, “ there 
were neither any shepherds nor sheep in Hellas, and 
not even the gods knew where the centre of the earth 
had been put. Some said that it was at Mount Olym- 
pus, where Zeus sits in his great house with all the 
deathless ones around him. Others said that it was 
in Achaia ; and others still, in Arcadia, now the land 
of shepherds ; and some, who, it seems to me, had lost 
their wits, said that it was not in Hellas at all, but in 
a strange land beyond the western sea. In order that 
he might know the truth, great Zeus one day took two 
eagles, both of the same strength and swiftness, and 
said, ‘These birds shall tell us what even the gods 
do not know.’ Then he carried one of the eagles to 
the far east, where the Dawn rises out of Ocean’s 
bed ; and he carried the other to the far west where 
Helios and his sun-car sink into the waves ; and he 
clapped his hands together, and the thunder rolled, and 
the swift birds flew at the same moment to meet each 


The Centre of the Earth. 


33 


other ; and right above the spot where Delphi stands, 
they came together, beak to beak, and both fell dead 
to the ground. ‘ Behold ! there is the centre of the 
earth,’ said Zeus. And all the gods agreed that he 
was right.” 

“Do you know the best and shortest road to Delphi ?” 
asked Phemius. 

“No one knows it better than I,” was the answer. 
“When I was a boy I fed my sheep at the foot of 
Parnassus ; and my father and grandfather lived there, 
long before the town of Delphi was built, or there was 
any temple there for Apollo. Shall I tell you how men 
came to build a temple at that spot ? ” 

“Yes, tell us,” said Odysseus. “I am anxious to 
know all about it.” 

“You must not repeat my story to the priests at 
Delphi,” said the shepherd, speaking now in a lower 
tone. “For they have quite a different way of telling 
it, and they would say that I have spoken lightly of 
sacred things. There was a time when only shepherds 
lived on the mountain slopes, and there were neither 
priests nor warriors nor robbers in all this land. My 
grandfather was one of those happy shepherds ; and he 
often pastured his flocks on the broad terrace where the 
town ot Delphi now stands, and where the two eagles, 
which I have told you about, fell to the ground. One 
day, a strange thing happened to him. A goat which 
was nibbling the grass from the sides of a little crevice 
in the rock, fell into a fit, and lay bleating and helpless 


34 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


upon the ground. My grandfather ran to help the 
beast; but as he stooped down, he too fell into a fit, 
and he saw strange visions, and spoke prophetic words. 
Some other shepherds who were passing by saw his 
plight, and lifted him up ; and as soon as he breathed 
the fresh air, he was himself again. 

“ Often after this, the same thing happened to my 
grandfather’s goats ; and when he had looked carefully 
into the matter, he found that a warm, stifling vapor 
issued at times from the crevice, and that it was the 
breathing of this vapor which had caused his goats and 
even himself to lose their senses. Then other men 
came ; and they learned that by sitting close to the 
crevice, and inhaling its vapor, they gained the power 
to foresee things, and the gift of prophecy came to 
them. And so they set a tripod over the crevice for a 
seat, and they built a temple — small at first — over the 
tripod ; and they sent for the wisest maidens in the 
land jto come and sit upon the tripod, and breathe 
the strange vapor, so that they could tell what was 
otherwise hidden from human knowledge. Some say 
that the vapor is the breath of a python, or great ser- 
pent ; and they call the priestess who sits upon the 
tripod Pythia. But I know nothing about that.” 

“Are you sure,” asked Phemius, “that it was your 
grandfather who first found that crevice in the rock? ” 

“ I am not quite sure,” said the shepherd. “ But I 
heard the story when I was a little child, and I know 
that it was either my grandfather or my grandfather’s 


The Centre of the Earth. 


35 


grandfather. At any rate, it all happened many, many 
years ago.” 

By this time they had finished their meal ; and after 
they had given thanks to the powers who had thus far 
kindly prospered them, they hastened to renew their 
journey. Two of the oarsmen, who were landsmen as 
well as seamen, were to go with them to carry their 
luggage and the little presents which Laertes had sent 
to the priests at Delphi. The shepherd was to be their 
guide ; and a second shepherd was to keep them com- 
pany, so as to help them in case of need. 

The sun was high over their heads when they were 
ready to begin their long and toilsome walk. The road 
at first was smooth and easy, winding through meadows 
and orchards and shady pastures. But very soon the 
way became steep and uneven, and the olive-trees gave 
place to pines, and the meadows to barren rocks. The 
little company toiled bravely onward, however, the two 
shepherds leading the way and cheering them with 
pleasant melodies on their flutes, while the two sailors 
with their heavy loads followed in the rear. 

It was quite late in the day when they reached the 
sacred town of Delphi, nestling in the very bosom of 
Parnassus. The mighty mountain wall now rose straight 
up before them, seeming to reach even to the clouds. 
The priests who kept the temple met them on the out- 
skirts of the town, and kindly welcomed them for the 
sake of King Laertes, whom they knew and had seen ; 
and they besought the wayfarers to abide for some time 


36 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


in Delphi. Nor, indeed, would Phemius have thought 
of going farther until he had prayed to bright Apollo, 
and offered rich gifts at his shrine, and questioned the 
Pythian priestess about the unknown future. 

And so Odysseus and his tutor became the honored 
guests of the Delphian folk ; and they felt that surely 
they were now at the very centre of the world. Their 
hosts dealt so kindly with them, that a whole month 
passed, and still they were in Delphi. And as they 
talked with the priests in the temple, or listened to the 
music of the mountain nymphs, or drank sweet draughts 
of wisdom from the Castalian spring, they every day 
found it harder and harder to tear themselves away 
from the delightful place. 


ADVENTURE IV. 


THE SILVER-BOWED APOLLO. 

One morning Odysseus sat in the shadow of Parnas- 
sus with one of the priests of Apollo, and they talked 
of many wonderful things ; and the boy began to think 
to himself that there was more wisdom in the words of 
his companion than in all the waters of the Castalian 
spring. He could see, from where he sat, the stream 
of that far-famed fountain, flowing out of the rocks be- 
tween two cliffs, and falling in sparkling cascades down 
the steep slopes. 

“ Men think that they gain wisdom by drinking from 
that spring,” said he to the priest ; “ but I think that 
they gain it in quite another way. They drink of its 
waters every day ; but while they drink, they listen to 
the wonderful words which fall from your lips, and they 
become wise by hearing, and not by drinking.” 

The old priest smiled at the shrewdness of the boy. 
“Let them think as they please,” said he. “In any 
case, their wisdom would come hard, and be of little 
use, if it were not for the silver-bowed Apollo.” 

“Tell me about Apollo,” said Odysseus. 

37 


38 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


The priest could not have been better pleased. He 
moved his seat, so that he could look the boy full in the 
face, and at the same time have the temple before him, 
and then he began : — 

“ A very long time ago, Apollo was born in distant 
Delos. And when the glad news of his birth was told, 
Earth smiled, and decked herself with flowers ; the 
nymphs of Delos sang songs of joy that were heard 
to the utmost bounds of Hellas ; and choirs of white 
swans flew seven times around the island, piping notes 
of praise to the pure being who had come to dwell 
among men. Then Zeus looked down from high Olym- 
pus, and crowned the babe with a golden head-band, 
and put into his hands a silver bow and a sweet-toned 
lyre such as no man had ever seen ; and he gave him a 
team of white swans to drive, and bade him go forth to 
teach men the things which are right and good, and 
to make light that which is hidden and in darkness. 

“And so Apollo arose, beautiful as the morning sun, 
and journeyed through many lands, seeking a dwelling- 
place. He stopped for a time at the foot of Mount 
Olympus, and played so sweetly upon his lyre that Zeus 
and all his court were entranced. Then he went into 
Pieria and Iolcos, and he wandered up and down through 
the whole length of the Thessalian land ; but nowhere 
could he find a spot in which he was willing to dwell. 
Then he climbed into his car, and bade his swan-team 
fly with him to the country of the Hyperboreans beyond 


The Silver- Bowed Apollo. 


39 


the far-off northern mountains. Forthwith they obeyed ; 
and through the pure regions of the upper air they bore 
him, winging their way ever northward. They carried 
him over the desert flats where the shepherd-folk of 
Scythia dwell in houses of wicker-work perched on well- 
wheeled wagons, and daily drive their flocks and herds 
to fresher pastures. They carried him over that un- 
known land where the Arimaspian host of one-eyed 
horsemen dwell beside a river running bright with gold ; 
and on the seventh day they came to the great Rhi- 
psean Mountains where the griffins, with lion-bodies and 
eagle-wings, guard the golden treasures of the North. 
In these mountains, the North Wind has his home ; and 
from his deep caves he now and then comes forth, chill- 
ing with his cold and angry breath the orchards and the 
fair fields of Hellas, and bringing death and dire disas- 
ters in his train. But northward this blustering Boreas 
cannot blow, for the heaven-towering mountains stand 
like a wall against him, and drive him back ; and hence 
it is that beyond these mountains the storms of winter 
never come, but one happy springtime runs through 
all the year. There the flowers bloom, and the grain 
ripens, and the fruits drop mellowing to the earth, and 
the red wine is pressed from the luscious grape, every 
day the same. And the Hyperboreans who dwell in 
that favored land know neither pain nor sickness, nor 
wearying labor nor eating care ; but their youth is as 
unfading as the springtime, and old age with its wrin- 
kles and its sorrows is evermore a stranger to them. 


40 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


For the spirit of evil, which leads all men to err, 
has never found entrance among them, and they are 
free from vile passions and unworthy thoughts ; and 
among them there is neither war, nor wicked deeds, 
nor fear of the avenging Furies, for their hearts are 
pure and clean, and never burdened with the love of 
self. 

“When the swan-team of silver-bowed Apollo had 
carried him over the Rhipaean Mountains, they alighted 
in the Hyperborean land. And the people welcomed 
Apollo with shouts of joy and songs of triumph, as one 
for whom they had long been waiting. And he took up 
his abode there, and dwelt with them one whole year, 
delighting them with his presence, and ruling over them 
as their king. But when twelve moons had passed, he 
bethought him that the toiling, suffering men of Hellas 
needed most his aid and care. Therefore he bade the 
Hyperboreans farewell, and again went up into his 
sun-bright car ; and his winged team carried him back 
to the land of his birth. 

“ Long time Apollo sought a place where he might 
build a temple to which men might come to learn of 
him and to seek his help in time of need. At length 
he came to the plain of fair Tilphussa, by the shore of 
Lake Copais ; and there he began to build a house, for 
the land was a pleasant one, well-watered, and rich in 
grain and fruit. But the nymph Tilphussa liked not 
to have Apollo dwell so near her, lest men seeing and 
loving him should forget to honor her; and one day, 


The Silver- Bowed Apollo. 


4i 


garmented with mosses and crowned with lilies, she 
came and stood before him in the sunlight. 

“ ‘ Apollo of the silver bow/ said she, ‘ have you not 
made a mistake in choosing this place for a dwelling ? 
These rich plains around us will not always be as 
peaceful as now ; for their very richness will tempt the 
spoiler, and the song of the cicada will then give place 
to the din of battle. Even in times of peace, you would 
hardly have a quiet hour here : for great herds of cattle 
come crowding down every day to my lake for water ; 
and the noisy ploughman, driving his team afield, dis- 
turbs the morning hour with his boorish shouts ; and 
boys and dogs keep up a constant din, and make life 
in this place a burden.’ 

“ ‘ Fair Tilphussa,’ said Apollo, * I had hoped to 
dwell here in thy happy vale, a -neighbor and friend 
to thee. Yet, since this place is not what it seems to 
be, whither shall I go, and where shall I build my 
house ? ” 

“ ‘ Go to the cleft in Parnassus where the swift eagles 
of Zeus met above the earth’s centre,’ answered the 
nymph. ‘There thou canst dwell in peace, and men 
will come from all parts of the world to do thee honor.’ 

“ And so Apollo came down towards Crissa, and here 
in the cleft of the mountain he laid the foundations 
of his shrine. Then he called the master-architects of 
the world, Trophonius and Agamedes, and gave to them 
the building of the high walls and the massive roof. 
And when they had finished their work, he said, ‘ Say 


42 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


now what reward you most desire for your labor, and 
I will give it you.’ 

“ ‘ Give us/ said the brothers, ‘that which is the 
best for men/ 

“It is well/ answered Apollo. ‘When the full moon 
is seen above the mountain-tops, you shall have your 
wish/ 

“ But when the moon rose full and clear above the 
heights, the two brothers were dead. 

“And Apollo was pleased with the place which he had 
chosen for a home ; for here were peace and quiet, and 
neither the hum of labor nor the din of battle would 
be likely ever to enter. Yet there was one thing to be 
done before he could have perfect rest. There lived 
near the foot of the mountain a huge serpent called 
Python, which was the terror of all the land. Often- 
times, coming out of his den, this monster attacked the 
flocks and herds, and sometimes even their keepers ; 
and he had been known to carry little children and 
helpless women to his den, and there devour them. 

“The men of Delphi came one day to Apollo, and 
prayed him to drive out or destroy their terrible enemy. 
So, taking in hand his silver bow, he sallied out at 
break of day to meet the monster when he should issue 
from his slimy cave. The vile creature shrank back 
when he saw the radiant god before him, and would 
fain have hidden himself in the deep gorges of the 
mountain. But Apollo quickly launched a swift arrow 
at him, crying, ‘ Thou bane of man, lie thou upon the 





APOLLO SLAYING THE 


PYTHON. 















































































































— 















i 


















The Silver- Bowed Apollo. 


43 


earth, and enrich it with thy dead body ! ’ And the 
never-erring arrow sped to the mark; and the great 
beast died, wallowing in his gore. And the people in 
their joy came out to meet the archer, singing paeans 
in his praise ; and they crowned him with wild flowers 
and wreaths of olives, and hailed him as the Pythian 
king ; and the nightingales sang to him in the groves, 
and the swallows and cicadas twittered and tuned 
their melodies in harmony with his lyre. 1 

“But as yet there were no priests in Apollo’s temple; 
and he pondered, long doubting, as to whom he should 
choose. One day he stood upon the mountain’s top- 
most peak, whence he could see all Hellas and the seas 
around it. Far away in the south, he spied a little ship 
sailing from Crete to sandy Pylos ; and the men who 
were on board were Cretan merchants. 

“ ‘ These men shall serve in my temple ! ’ he cried. 

“ Upward he sprang, and high he soared above the 
sea ; then swiftly descending like a fiery star, he 
plunged into the waves. There he changed himself 
into the form of a dolphin, and swam with speed to 
overtake the vessel. Long before the ship had reached 
Pylos, the mighty fish came up with it, and struck its 
stern. The crew were dumb with terror, and sat still 
in their places ; their oars were motionless ; the sail 
hung limp and useless from the mast. Yet the vessel 
sped through the waves with the speed of the wind, 
for the dolphin was driving it forward by the force of 

1 See Note 2 at the end of this volume. 


44 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


his fins. Past many a headland, past Pylos and many 
pleasant harbors, they hastened. Vainly did the pilot 
try to land at Cyparissa and at Cyllene : the ship would 
not obey her helm. They rounded the headland of 
Araxus, and came into the long bay of Crissa ; and 
there the dolphin left off guiding the vessel, and swam 
playfully around it, while a brisk west wind filled the 
sail, and bore the voyagers safely into port. 

“Then the dolphin changed into the form of a glowing 
star, which, shooting high into the heavens, lit up the 
whole world with its glory; and as the awe-stricken 
crew stood gazing at the wonder, it fell with the quick- 
ness of light upon Parnassus. Into his temple Apollo 
hastened, and there he kindled an undying fire. Then, 
in the form of a handsome youth, with golden hair fall 
ing in waves upon his shoulders, he hastened to the 
beach to welcome the Cretan strangers. 

“ ‘ Hail, seamen ! ’ he cried. 4 Who are you, and from 
whence do you come? Shall I greet you as friends 
and guests, or shall I know you as robbers bringing 
death and distress to many a fair home ? ’ 

“ Then answered the Cretan captain, ‘ Fair stranger, 
the gods have brought us hither ; for by no wish of our 
own have we come. We are Cretan merchants, and we 
were on our way to sandy Pylos with stores of mer- 
chandise, to barter with the tradesmen of that city. 
But some unknown being, whose might is greater than 
the might of men, has carried us far beyond our wished- 
for port, even to this unknown shore. Tell us now, we 


The Silver- Bowed Apollo . 


45 


pray thee, what land is this ? And who art thou who 
lookest so like a god ? * 

Friends and guests, for such indeed you must be,’ 
answered the radiant youth, * think never again of sail- 
ing upon the wine-faced sea, but draw now your vessel 
high up on the beach. And when you have brought 
out all your goods, and built an altar upon the shore, 
take of your white barley which you have with you, and 
offer it reverently to Phoebus Apollo. For I am he ; 
and it was I who brought you hither, so that you might 
keep my temple, and make known my wishes unto men. 
And since it was in the form of a dolphin that you first 
saw me, let the town which stands around my temple 
be known as Delphi, and let men worship me there as 
Apollo Delphinius.’ 

“ Then the Cretans did as he had bidden them : they 
drew their vessel high up on the white beach, and 
when they had unladen it of their goods, they built an 
altar on the shore, and offered white barley to Phoebus 
Apollo, and gave thanks to the ever-living powers who 
had saved them from the terrors of the deep. And 
after they had feasted, and rested from their long 
voyage, they turned their faces toward Parnassus ; and 
Apollo, playing sweeter music than men had ever 
heard, led the way ; and the folk of Delphi, with choirs 
of boys and maidens, came to meet them, and they 
sang a paean and songs of victory as they helped 
the Cretans up the steep pathway to the cleft of 
Parnassus. 


46 A Story of the Golden Age. 

“ ‘ I leave you now to have sole care of my temple,’ 
said Apollo. ‘ I charge you to keep it well ; deal right- 
eously with all men ; let no unclean thing pass your 
lips ; forget self ; guard well your thoughts, and keep 
your hearts free from guile. If you do these things, 
you shall be blessed with length of days, and all that 
makes life glad. But if you forget my words, and deal 
treacherously with men, and cause any to wander from 
the path of right, then shall you be driven forth home- 
less and accursed, and others shall take your places in 
the service of my house.’ 

“ And then the bright youth left them, and hastened 
away into Thessaly and to Mount Olympus. But every 
year he comes again, and looks into his house, and 
speaks words of warning and of hope to his servants ; 
and often men have seen him on Parnassus, playing his 
lyre to the listening Muses, or with bis sister, arrow- 
loving Artemis, chasing the mountain deer.” 

Such was the story which the old priest related to 
Odysseus, sitting in the shadow of the mountain ; and 
the boy listened with eyes wide open and full of won- 
der, half expecting to see the golden-haired Apollo 
standing by his side 


ADVENTURE V. 


THE KING OF CATTLE-THIEVES. 

Odysseus and his tutor tarried, as I have told you, a 
whole month at Delphi ; for Phemius would not venture 
farther on their journey until the Pythian oracle should 
tell him how it would end. In the mean while many 
strangers were daily coming from all parts of Hellas, 
bringing rich gifts for Apollo’s temple, and seeking 
advice from the Pythia. From these strangers Odys- 
seus learned many things concerning lands and places 
of which he never before had heard ; and nothing 
pleased him better than to listen to the marvellous 
tales which each man told about his own home and 
people. 

One day as he was walking towards the spring of 
Castalia, an old man, who had come from Corinth to 
ask questions of the Pythia, met him, and stopped 
to talk with him. 

“Young prince,” said the old man, “what business 
can bring one so young as you to this place sacred to 
Apollo?” 

“ I am on my way to visit my grandfather,” said 

47 


48 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


Odysseus, “and I have stopped here for a few days 
while my tutor consults the oracle.” 

“ Your grandfather ! And who is your grandfather ? ” 
asked the old man. 

“ The great chief Autolycus, whose halls are on the 
other side of Parnassus,” answered Odysseus. 

The old man drew a long breath, and after a 
moment’s silence said, “ Perhaps, then, you are going 
to help your grandfather take care of his neighbors’ 
cattle.” 

“ I do not know what you mean,” answered Odysseus, 
startled by the tone in which the stranger spoke these 
words. 

“ I mean that your grandfather, who is the most 
cunning of men, will expect to teach you his trade,” 
said the man, with a strange twinkle in his eye. 

“ My grandfather is a chieftain and a hero,” said the 
boy. “What trade has he ? ” 

“You pretend not to know that he is a cattle- 
dealer,” answered the old man, shrugging his shoul- 
ders. “Why, all Hellas has known him these hundred 
years as the King of Cattle-Thieves ! But he is very 
old now, and the herdsmen and shepherds have little 
to fear from him any more. Yet, mind my words, 
young prince : it does not require the wisdom of the 
Pythian oracle to foretell that you, his grandson, will 
become the craftiest of men. With Autolycus for 
your grandfather and Hermes for your great-grand- 
father, it would be hard indeed for you to be otherwise.” 


The King of Cattle-Thieves. 


49 


At this moment the bard Phemius came up, and the 
old man walked quickly away. 

“ What does he mean ?” asked Odysseus, turning to 
his tutor. “ What does he mean by saying that my 
grandfather is the king of cattle-thieves, and by speak- 
ing of Hermes as my great-grandfather ? ” 

“ They tell strange tales about Autolycus, the moun- 
tain chief,” Phemius answered ; “ but whether their 
stories be true or false, I cannot say. The old man 
who was talking to you is from Corinth, where once 
reigned Sisyphus, a most cruel and crafty king. From 
Corinth, Sisyphus sent ships and traders to all the 
world ; and the wealth of Hellas might have been his, 
had he but loved the truth and dealt justly with his 
fellow-men. But there was no honor in his soul ; he 
betrayed his dearest friends for gold ; and he crushed 
under a huge block of stone the strangers who came to 
Corinth to barter their merchandise. It is said, that, 
once upon a time, Autolycus went down to Corinth in 
the night, and carried away all the cattle of Sisyphus, 
driving them to his great pastures beyond Parnassus. 
Not long afterward, Sisyphus went boldly to your 
grandfather’s halls, and said, — 

“ ‘ I have come, Autolycus, to get again my cattle 
which you have been so kindly pasturing.’ 

“ ‘ It is well,’ said Autolycus. ‘ Go now among my 
herds, and if you find any cattle bearing your mark 
upon them, they are yours : drive them back to your 
own pastures. This is the offer which I make to 


50 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


every man who comes claiming that I have stolen his 
cattle.’ 

“Then Sisyphus, to your grandfather’s great sur- 
prise, went among the herds, and chose his own without 
making a single error. 

“ ‘ See you not my initial, 2, under the hoof of each 
of these beasts ? ’ asked Sisyphus. 

“ Autolycus saw at once that he had been outwitted, 
and he fain would have made friends with one who was 
more crafty than himself. But Sisyphus dealt treach- 
erously with him, as he did with every one who trusted 
him. Yet men say, that, now he is dead, he has his 
reward in Hades ; for there he is doomed to the never- 
ending toil of heaving a heavy stone to the top of a 
hill, only to see it roll back again to the plain. 1 It was 
from him that men learned to call your grandfather the 
King of Cattle-Thieves; with how much justice, you 
may judge for yourself.” 

“You have explained a part of what I asked you,” 
said Odysseus thoughtfully, “but you have not an- 
swered my question about Hermes.” 

“ I will answer that at another time,” said Phemius ; 
“for to-morrow we must renew our journey, and I must 
go now and put every thing in readiness.” 2 

“But has the oracle spoken?” asked Odysseus in 
surprise. 

“The Pythia has answered my question,” said the 

1 See Note 3 at the end of this volume. 

2 See Note 4 at the end of this volume. 


The King of Cattle-Thieves . 


5i 


bard. “I asked what fortune should attend you on 
this journey, and the oracle made this reply : — 

‘ To home and kindred he shall safe return e’er long, 

With scars well-won, and greeted with triumphal song.’ ” 

“ What does it mean ? ” asked Odysseus. 

“ Just what it says,” answered the bard. "All that 
is now needed is that we should do our part, and for- 
tune will surely smile upon us.” 

And so, on the morrow, they bade their kind hosts 
farewell, and began to climb the steep pathway, which, 
they were told, led up and around to the rock-built 
halls of Autolycus. At the top of the first slope they 
came upon a broad table-land from the centre of which 
rose the peak of Parnassus towering to the skies. 
Around the base of this peak, huge rocks were piled, 
one above the other, just as they had been thrown in 
the days of old from the mighty hands of the Titans. 
On every side were clefts and chasms and deep gorges, 
through which flowed roaring torrents fed from the 
melting snows above. And in the sides of the cliffs 
were dark caves and narrow grottos, hollowed from 
the solid rock, wherein strange creatures were said to 
dwell. 

Now and then Odysseus fancied that he saw a 
mountain nymph flitting among the trees, or a satyr 
with shaggy beard hastily hiding himself among the 
clefts and crags above them. They passed by the 
great Corycian cavern, whose huge vaulted chambers 


52 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


would shelter a thousand men ; but they looked in vain 
for the nymph Corycia, who, they were told, sometimes 
sat within, and smiled upon passing travellers. A little 
farther beyond, they heard the mellow notes of a lyre, 
and the sound of laughter and merry-making, in a grove 
of evergreens, lower down the mountain-side ; and 
Odysseus wondered if Apollo and the Muses were not 
there. 

The path which the little company followed did not 
lead to the summit of the peak, but wound around its 
base, and then, by many a zigzag, led downward to a 
wooded glen through the middle of which a mountain 
torrent rushed. By and by the glen widened into a 
pleasant valley, broad and green, bounded on three 
sides by steep mountain walls. Here were rich pas- 
ture-lands, and a meadow, in which Odysseus saw 
thousands of cattle grazing. The guide told them that 
those were the pastures and the cattle of great Autoly- 
cus. Close to the bank of the mountain torrent, — just 
where it leaped from a precipice, and, forgetting its 
wild hurry, was changed to a quiet meadow brook, — 
stood the dwelling of the chief. It was large and low, 
and had been hewn out of the solid rock; it looked 
more like the entrance to a mountain cave than like the 
palace of a king. 

Odysseus and his tutor walked boldly into the great 
gall ; for the low doorway was open and unguarded, 
and the following words were roughly carved in the 
rock above : “ Here lives Autolycus. If your heart 


53 


The King of Cattle-Thieves . 


is brave, enter.” They passed through the entrance- 
hall, and came to a smaller inner chamber. There 
they saw Autolycus seated in a chair of ivory and 
gold, thick-cushioned with furs ; and near him sat fair 
Amphithea his wife, busy with her spindle and distaff. 
The chief was very old ; his white hair fell in waves 
upon his great shoulders, and his broad brow was 
wrinkled with age : yet his frame was that of a giant, 
and his eyes glowed and sparkled with the fire of 
youth. 

“Strangers,” said he kindly, “you are welcome to 
my halls. It is not often that men visit me in my 
mountain home, and old age has bound me here in 
my chair so that I can no longer walk abroad among 
my fellows. Besides this, there are those who of late 
speak many unkind words of me ; and good men care 
not to be the guests of him who is called the King 
of Cattle-Thieves.” Then seeing that his visitors still 
lingered at the door, he added, “ I pray you, whoever 
you may be, fear not, but enter, and be assured of a 
kind welcome.” 

Then Odysseus went fearlessly forward, and stood 
before the chief, and made himself known, and showed 
them the presents which his mother Anticleia had 
sent. Glad indeed was the heart of old Autolycus as 
he grasped the hand of his grandson ; and Amphithea 
took the lad in her arms, and kissed his brow and both 
his eyes, and wept for very fulness of joy. Then, at a 
call from the old chief, an inner dooi was opened, and 


54 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


his six sons came in. Stalwart men were they, with 
limbs strong as iron, and eyes like those of the moun- 
tain eagle; and they warmly welcomed the young 
prince, and asked him a thousand questions about his 
home in Ithaca, and his queen-mother, their sister 
Anticleia. 

“ Waste not the hours in talk ! ” cried old Autolycus 
at last. “ There is yet another day for words. Make 
ready at once a fitting feast for this my grandson and 
his friend the bard ; and let our halls ring loud with 
joyful merriment.” 

The sons at once obeyed. From the herd which was 
pasturing in the meadows, they chose the fattest calf ; 
this they slew and quickly dressed ; and then, cutting 
off the choicest parts, they roasted them on spits before 
the blazing fire. And when the meal was ready, great 
Autolycus, his wife, and his sons sat down with their 
guests at the heavy-laden table ; and they feasted 
merrily until the sun went down, and darkness covered 
the earth. Then the young men brought arm-loads of 
dry branches, and logs of pine, and threw them upon 
the fire, and the blaze leaped up and lighted the hall 
with a rich ruddy glow; and Odysseus sat upon a 
couch of bear-skins, at his grandfather’s feet, and 
listened to many a wonderful story of times long past, 
but ever present in the old man’s memory. 

“ Truly there are two things against which it is use- 
less for any man to fight,” said Autolycus, “ and these 
are old age and death. The first has already made me 


The King of Cattle-Thieves . 


55 


his slave, and the second will soon have me in his 
clutches. When I was young, there was not a man 
who could outstrip me in the foot-race. I even thought 
myself a match for the fleet-footed maiden Atalanta. 
There were very few men, even among the great heroes, 
who could hurl a spear with more force than I ; and 
there was hardly one who could bend my great bow. 
But now both spear and bow are useless. You see 
them standing in the corner there, where my eyes can 
rest upon them. To-morrow you shall help me polish 
them.” 

Then after a moment’s pause he added, “But, oh 
the wrestling and the leaping ! There was never but 
one mortal who could excel me in either.” 

“I have heard,” said Odysseus, “that even great 
Heracles was your pupil.” 

“And such indeed he was,” answered the old man. 
“ The first time I saw the matchless hero, he was but a 
child, tall and beautiful, with the eyes of a wild deer, 
and with flaxen hair falling over his shoulders. But he 
was stronger even then than any common mortal. His 
stepfather Amphitryon called me to Thebes to be the 
boy’s teacher, for he saw in him rich promises of future 
greatness. With me he called many of the noblest 
men of Hellas. First there was Eurytus, the master 
of archers, who taught the hero how to bend the bow, 
and send the swift arrow straight to the mark. But in 
an evil day Eurytus met his fate, and all through his 
own folly. For, being proud of his skill, which no 


56 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


mortal could excel, he challenged great Apollo to a 
shooting-match ; and the angry archer-god pierced him 
through and through with his arrows. 

“ Second among the teachers of Heracles was Castor, 
the brother of Polydeuces and of Helen, the most 
beautiful of women. He taught the hero how to wield 
the spear and the sword. Then, there was Linus, the 
brother of Orpheus, sweetest of musicians, who came 
to teach him how to touch the lyre and bring forth 
bewitching melody; but the boy, whose mind was set 
on great deeds, cared naught for music, and the lessons 
which Linus gave him were profitless. ‘ Thou art but 
a dull and witless youth ! * cried the minstrel one day, 
striking his pupil upon the cheek. Then Heracles in 
wrath smote Linus with his own lyre, and killed him. 

‘ Even a dull pupil has his rights,’ said he, ‘ and one of 
these is the right not to be called a blockhead.’ The 
Theban rulers brought the young hero to trial for his 
crime ; but he stood up before them, and reminded them 
of a half-forgotten law which Rhadamanthus, the ruler 
of the Elysian land, had given them : ‘ Whoso defends 
himself against an unjust attack is guiltless } and shall 
go free.' And the judges, pleased with his wisdom, gave 
him his liberty.” 

“ Did Heracles have any other teachers ? ” asked 
Odysseus, anxious to hear more. 

“Yes; Amphytrion himself taught the lad how to 
drive a chariot skilfully, and how to manage horses. 
And, as I have said, he called me to teach him the 


The King of Cattle- Thieves, 


57 


manly arts of leaping and running and wrestling. He 
was an apt pupil, and soon excelled his master; and 
Amphitryon, fearing that in a thoughtless moment he 
might serve me as he had served unlucky Linus, sent 
him away to Mount Cithaeron to watch his herds 
which were pasturing there.” 

“Surely,” said Odysseus, looking at the giant arms 
of his grandfather, ridged with iron muscles, — “ surely 
there was no danger of the young hero harming you.” 

“A son of Hermes, such as I,” said the old chief, 
“might dare to stand against Heracles in craft and cun- 
ning, but never in feats of strength. While the lad fed 
Amphytrion’s flocks in the mountain meadows, he grew 
to be a giant, four cubits in height, and terrible to look 
upon. His voice was like the roar of a desert lion ; his 
step was like the march of an earthquake ; and fire 
flashed from his eyes like the glare of thunderbolts 
when they are hurled from the storm-clouds down to 
the fruitful plains below. He could tear up trees by 
their roots, and hurl mountain crags from their places. 
It was then that he slew the Cithaeron lion with his 
bare hands, and took its skin for a helmet and a mantle 
which, I am told, he wears to this very day. Only a 
little while after this, he led the Thebans into a battle 
with their enemies, the Minyans, and gained for them a 
glorious victory. Then Pallas Athene, well pleased 
with the hero, gave him a purple robe ; Hephaestus 
made for him a breastplate of solid gold ; and Hermes 
gave him a sword, Apollo a bow, and Poseidon a team 


58 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


of the most wonderful horses ever known. Then, that 
he might be fully armed, he went into the Nemaean 
wood, and cut for himself that stout club which he 
always carries, and which is more terrible in his hands 
than spear, or sword, or bow and arrows.” 

“I have heard,” said Odysseus, “that Cheiron, the 
centaur, was one of the teachers of Heracles.” 

“He was not only his teacher,” said Autolycus, “but 
he was his friend. He taught what was just and true ; 
he showed him that there is one thing greater than 
strength, and that is gentleness ; and he led him to 
change his rude, savage nature into one full of kind- 
ness and love : so that in all the world there is no one 
so full of pity for the poor and weak, so full of sym- 
pathy for the down-trodden, as is Heracles the strong. 
Had it not been for wise Cheiron; I fear that Heracles 
would not have made the happy decision which he once 
did, when the choice of two roads was offered him.” 

“What was that?” asked Odysseus. “I have never 
heard about it.” 

“When Heracles was a fair-faced youth, and life was 
all before him, he went out one morning to do an errand 
for his stepfather Amphitryon. But as he walked, his 
heart was full of bitter thoughts; and he murmured 
because others no better than himself were living in 
ease and pleasure, while for him there was naught but 
a life of labor and pain. And as he thought upon these 
things, he came to a place where two roads met ; and 
he stopped, not certain which one to take. The road 


The King of Cattle-Thieves. 


59 


on his right was hilly and rough ; there was no beauty 
in it or about it : but he saw that it led straight towards 
the blue mountains in the far distance. The road on 
his left was broad and smooth, with shade-trees on 
either side, where sang an innumerable choir of birds ; 
and it went winding among green meadows, where 
bloomed countless flowers : but it ended in fog and 
mist long before it ever reached the wonderful blue 
mountains in the distance. 

“ While the lad stood in doubt as to these roads, he 
saw two fair women coming towards him, each on a 
different road. The one who came by the flowery way 
reached him first, and Heracles saw that she was beau- 
tiful as a summer day. Her cheeks were red, her eyes 
sparkled; she spoke warm, persuasive words. ‘O noble 
youth,’ she said, ‘ be no longer bowed down with labor 
and sore trials, but come and follow me. I will lead 
you into pleasant paths, where there are no storms to 
disturb and no troubles to annoy. You shall live in 
ease, with one unending round of music and mirth ; and 
you shall not want for any thing that makes life joyous, 
— sparkling wine, or soft couches, or rich robes, or the 
loving eyes of beautiful maidens. Come with me, and 
life shall be to you a day-dream of gladness.’ 

“ By this time the other fair woman had drawn near, 
and she now spoke to the lad. ‘I have nothing to 
promise you,’ said she, 4 save that which you shall win 
with your own strength. The road upon which I would 
lead you is uneven and hard, and climbs many a hill, 


6o 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


and descends into many a valley and quagmire. The 
views which you will sometimes get from the hilltops 
are grand and glorious, but the deep valleys are dark, 
and the ascent from them is toilsome ; but the road 
leads to the blue mountains of endless fame, which you 
see far away on the horizon. They cannot be reached 
without labor; in fact, there is nothing worth having 
that must not be won by toil. If you would have fruits 
and flowers, you must plant them and care for them ; 
if you would gain the love of your fellow-men, you must 
love them and suffer for them ; if you would enjoy the 
favor of Heaven, you must make yourself worthy of 
that favor ; if you would have eternal fame, you must 
not scorn the hard road that leads to it.’ 

“ Then Heracles saw that this lady, although she was 
as beautiful as the other, had a countenance pure and 
gentle, like the sky on a balmy morning in May. 

“ ‘ What is your name ? ’ he asked. 

“‘Some call me Labor,’ she answered, ‘but others 
know me as Virtue.’ 

“Then he turned to the first lady. ‘And what is 
your name ? ’ he asked. 

“ ‘ Some call me Pleasure,’ she said, with a bewitching 
smile, ‘but I choose to be known as the Joyous and 
Happy One.’ 

“‘Virtue,’ said Heracles, ‘I will take thee as my 
guide ! The road of labor and honest effort shall be 
mine, and my heart shall no longer cherish bitterness 
or discontent.’ 


The King of Cattle- Thieves. 


61 


“And he put his hand into that of Virtue, and en- 
tered with her upon the straight and forbidding road 
which leads to the fair blue mountains in the pale and 
distant horizon . 1 

“My dear grandson, make thou the same wise 
choice. 

“ But now the fire has burned low, and it is time that 
both old and young should seek repose. Go now to 
your chamber and your couch ; and pleasant dreams 
be yours until the new day dawns, bringing its labors 
and its victories.” 


1 See Note 5 at the end of this volume. 


ADVENTURE VI. 


TWO FAMOUS BOAR-HUNTS. 

Hardly had the morning tinged the eastern sky with 
her yellow light, when Odysseus arose from his couch, 
and quickly clothed himself ; for he had been awak- 
ened by the sound of hurrying feet, and many voices, 
and the barking of dogs, beneath his chamber window. 
When he went down into the great hall, he was greeted 
by his six stalwart uncles, all of whom were dressed for 
the chase, and armed with spears and knives. 

“ To-day we hunt the wild boar on the wooded slopes 
of Parnassus,” said Echion, the eldest. “ How glad we 
should be if you were old enough and strong enough to 
join us in the sport ! ” 

The heart of Odysseus was stirred at once, like that 
of a warrior when he hears the battle-call. “I am 
certainly strong enough ! ” he cried. “ I will ask my 
grandfather if I may go.” 

Autolycus smiled when the boy made known his wish. 
Indeed, he was expecting such a request, and would 
have been disappointed and displeased if it had not 
been made. 


62 


Two Famous Boar- Hunts. 


63 


“ Yes, go, my child,” he said ; “and while I sit here, 
bound with the fetters of old age, my blessing shall 
go with you.” 

Odysseus thanked his grandfather, and lost no time in 
making himself ready for the hunt. A hasty meal was 
eaten ; and then the huntsmen, with a great number of 
dogs and serving-men, sallied forth, and began to climb 
the mountain slopes. The master of the hunt was an 
old, gray-bearded man, one of the last of the ancient 
race of heroes, whose whole life had been spent in the 
household of Autolycus. Old as he was, he outstrode 
all the other huntsmen ; but Odysseus, young and sup- 
ple, kept close behind him, — a dwarf following in the 
wake of a giant. Upward and still upward they toiled, 
while their comrades, with the hounds, followed slowly 
far below them. They passed through the belt of pine- 
trees, and left the wooded slopes behind. There was 
now nothing but bare rocks before and above them. 
The cold winds whistled about their heads ; the moun- 
tain eagles soared and screamed in the sharp morning 
air. 

“ Surely, my father,” said Odysseus, “ the lair of the 
wild boar cannot be on these bleak heights. Would it 
not be better to seek him among the woods of the lower 
slopes ? ” 

“You are right,” said the old man, stopping at last 
upon one of the highest crags. “ I have brought you 
to this spot, not in search of game, but to show you 
what is a truly great and beautiful sight. Your tutor 


6 4 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


has told me that you once had a glimpse of the world 
from Mount Neritus; now look around you, and see the 
world itself ! ” 

Then the lad looked ; and far away on the blue hori- 
zon he saw the silvery heights of Olympus, the throne 
of mighty Zeus, glittering in the sunlight, and canopied 
with clouds. On his right he beheld Mount Helicon 
and the fruitful plains of Boeotia, and the blue sea of 
^Egaea stretching away and away towards the sunrise 
halls of Helios. Southward lay the Bay of Crissa, and 
beyond it the land of mighty Pelops, and busy Corinth, 
and the rich pasture-lands of Arcadia. Then turning 
to the west, he saw, like a mere speck on the horizon, 
his own loved Ithaca ; while nearer were the woods of 
Calydon and the green headlands of Achaia. At that 
moment the clouds which had been hanging about the 
mountain-top suddenly melted away, and the sun shone 
out bright and clear, bathing the woods and crags in 
purple and gold ; while at the same time the music of 
ten thousand voices of birds and beasts and nymphs 
and waterfalls was borne up from below to their 
delighted ears. 

“ Is not this a beautiful world ? ” asked the aged hero, 
baring his gray head to the cold winds. “ What would 
you not give to have it all for your own ? ” 

The lad answered not a word ; but his eyes filled with 
tears as he thought of his home and of those whom he 
loved, far away by the green slopes of little Neritus. 

“ My son,” then said the hero, “ remember the choice 


Two Famous Boar- Hunts. 


65 


of Heracles. Happiness is to be gotten from within 
us. It is not to be bought with silver and gold, nor yet 
is it to be seized upon with violence. Better have a 
clean conscience than to own all Hellas ; better — 
But hark ! I hear the dogs in the dells far below 
us ! Let us hasten down, for they have started the 
game.” 

Within a thorny thicket where grew the vines and 
leaves so closely that the sun’s rays never struggled 
through them, the huge wild boar had made his lair. 
Hither the hounds had tracked him ; and their deep 
baying, and the trampling of many feet among the dead 
leaves upon the ground, had roused the beast, and 
stirred him into fury. Suddenly he sprang from his 
lair, and gnashing his huge tusks, and foaming with 
fury, he charged upon his foes. The dogs fell back, 
afraid to come too close to an enemy so fierce and 
strong ; and with their many-toned bays they made the 
echoes of Parnassus ring. 

Just at this moment, the boy Odysseus rushed down 
into the glen, his long spear poised and ready to strike. 
But the great beast waited not for the stroke : he dashed 
furiously at the boy, who quickly leaped aside, although 
too late. The boar’s sharp tusk struck Odysseus just 
above the knee, cutting a fearful gash, tearing the flesh, 
and even grazing the bone. But the lad, undaunted, 
struck manfully with his weapon. The bright spear 
was driven straight to the heart of the beast ; with one 
great cry he fell, and gnashing his huge jaws helplessly 


66 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


he died among the withered leaves. The boy, faint 
with pain and the joy of victory, staggered into the 
arms of his stalwart uncles, who had hastened to succor 
him. Gently they bound up the ghastly wound, and 
with charms and witchery stanched the flowing blood. 
Then, upon a litter woven of vines and pliant twigs, 
they bore him down the deep glen to the broad halls of 
old Autolycus ; and the men and boys, having flayed 
the grisly beast, brought afterward its head and bristly 
hide, and set them up as trophies in the gateway. 

For many weary days, Odysseus lay helpless on a 
couch of pain. But his kind kinsmen, and Phemius 
his tutor, waited on him tenderly, and his fair grand- 
mother Amphithea nursed him. And when the pain 
left him, and he began to grow strong again, he loved 
to lie on the bear-skins at his grandfather’s feet, and 
listen to tales of the earlier days, when the older race 
of heroes walked the earth. 

“ When I was younger than I am to-day,” said the 
old chief, as they sat one evening in the light of the 
blazing brands, — “ when I was much younger than now, 
it was my fortune to take part in the most famous boar- 
hunt the world has ever known. 

“There lived at that time, in Calydon, a mighty 
chief named Oineus, — and, indeed, I know not but that 
he still lives. Oineus was rich in vineyards and in 
orchards, and no other man in all Aitolia was happier 
or more blessed than he. He had married, early in life, 
the princess Althea, fairest of the Acarnanian maidens ; 


Two Famous Boar-Hunts. 


67 


and to them a son had been born, golden-haired and 
beautiful, whom they called Meleager. 

“ When Meleager was yet but one day old, his father 
held him in his arms, and prayed to Zeus and the ever- 
living powers above: ‘Grant, Father Zeus, and all ye 
deathless ones, that this my son may be the foremost 
among the men of Hellas. And let it come to pass, 
that when they see his valiant deeds, his countrymen 
shall say, “ Behold, this youth is greater than his father,” 
and all of one accord shall hail him as their guardian 
king.’ 

“Then his mother Althea, weeping tears of joy, 
prayed to Pallas Athene, that the boy might grow up 
to be pure-minded and gentle, the hope and pride of 
his parents, and the delight and staff of their declining 
years. Scarcely had the words of prayer died from her 
lips, when there came into her chamber the three 
unerring Fates who spin the destinies of men. White- 
robed and garlanded, they stood beside the babe, and 
with unwearied fingers drew out the lines of his un- 
tried life. Sad Clotho held the golden distaff in her 
hand, and twirled and twisted the delicate thread. 
Lachesis, now sad, now hopeful, with her long white 
fingers held the hourglass, and framed her lips to say, 
‘It is enough.’ And Atropos, blind and unpitying as 
the future always is, stood ready, with cruel shears, to 
clip the twist in twain. Busily and silently sad Clotho 
spun ; and the golden thread, thin as a spider’s web, 
yet beautiful as a sunbeam, grew longer and more 


68 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


golden between her skilful fingers. Then Lachesis 
cried out, ‘ It is finished ! ’ But Atropos hid her shears 
beneath her mantle, and said, ‘ Not so. Behold, there 
is a brand burning upon the hearth. Wait until it is 
all burned into ashes and smoke, and then I will cut 
the thread of the child’s life. Spin on, sweet Clotho ! ’ 

“ Quick as thought, Althea sprang forward, snatched 
the blazing brand from the hearth, and quenched its 
flame in a jar of water ; and when she knew that not a 
single spark was left glowing upon it, she locked it 
safely in a chest where none but she could find it. As 
she did this, the pitiless sisters vanished from her sight, 
saying as they flitted through the air, ‘We bide our 
time .’ 1 

“ Meleager grew up to be a tall and fair and gentle 
youth ; and when at last he became a man, he sailed on 
the ship Argo, with Jason, and Laertes your father, 
and the great heroes of that day, to far-off Colchis, in 
search of the Golden Fleece. Many brave deeds were 
his in foreign lands ; and when he came home again to 
Calydon, he brought with him a fair young wife, gentle 
Cleopatra, daughter of Idas the boaster. 

“ Oineus had gathered in his harvest ; and he was 
glad and thankful in his heart, because his fields had 
yielded plenteously ; his vines had been loaded with 
purple grapes, and his orchards filled with abundance 
of pleasant fruit. Grateful, as men should always be, to 
the givers of peace and plenty, he held within his halls 


1 See Note 6 at the end of this volume. 


Two Famous Boar- Hunts. 


09 


a harvest-festival, to which the brave and beautiful of 
all ^Etolia came. Happy was this feast, and the hours 
were bright with smiles and sunshine ; and men forgot 
sorrow and labor, and thought only of the gladness of 
life. 

“ Then Oineus took of the first-fruits of his fields and 
his vineyards and his orchards, and offered them in 
thankful offerings to the givers of good. But he forgot 
to deck the shrine of Artemis with gifts, little thinking 
that the arrow-darting queen cared for any thing which 
mortal men might offer her. Ah, woful mistake was 
that ! For, in her anger at the slight, Artemis sent a 
savage boar, with ivory tusks and foaming mouth, to 
overrun the lands of Calydon. Many a field did the 
monster ravage, many a tree uproot ; and all the grow- 
ing vines, which late had borne so rich a vintage, were 
trampled to the ground. Sadly troubled was Oineus, 
and the chieftains of ^Etolia knew not what to do. For 
the fierce beast could not be slain, but with his terrible 
tusks he had sent many a rash hunter to an untimely 
death. Then the young man Meleager said, ‘I will 
call together the heroes of Hellas, and we will hunt the 
boar in the woods of Calydon.’ 

“And so at the call of Meleager, the warriors flocked 
from every land, to join in the hunt of the fierce wild 
boar. Among them came Castor and Polydeuces, the 
twin brothers from Lacedaemon ; and Idas the boaster, 
the father-in-law of Meleager, from Messene ; and 
mighty Jason, captain of the Argo ; and Atalanta, 


?o 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


the swift-footed daughter of Iasus of Arcadia; and 
many Acarnanian huntsmen led by the sons of Thes- 
tios, Althea’s brothers. Thither also did I, Autolycus, 
hasten, although men spitefully said that I was far 
more skilful in taking tame beasts than in slaying wild 
ones. 

“Nine days we feasted in the halls of Oineus ; and 
every day we tried our skill with bows and arrows, and 
tested the strength of our well-seasoned spears. On 
the tenth, the bugles sounded, and hounds and hunts- 
men gathered in the courtyard of the chief, chafing for 
the hunt. But a proud fellow named Cepheus, of Ar* 
cadia, when he saw fair Atalanta equipped for the 
chase, drew back disdainfully, and said, — 

“ ‘ In my country, it is not the custom for heroes to 
go to battle or to hunt side by side with women. 
Woman’s place is at home : her weapons are the distaff 
and the needle ; her duty is to practise well the house- 
hold virtues. If you allow this young girl to join in 
this hunt, then I will turn my face homeward, and seek 
in the Arcadian land adventures worthy of men.’ 

“ Then Meleager angrily answered, ‘ In the Arcadian 
land, if report speaks truly, the deeds deemed worthiest 
of men are the watching of flocks, and the tuning of 
the shepherd’s pipe. It is fear, not bravery, that 
makes you seek an excuse to leave the chase of the 
wild boar before it is begun. You are afraid of the 
beast ; and you are still more afraid of the maiden Ata- 
lanta, lest she should prove to be more skilled than you. 


Two Famous Boar-Hunts. 


7i 


Have you heard how, when an infant, she was left to 
perish on the Parthenian hill, and would have died, had 
not a she-bear cared for her until some hunters rescued 
her? Have you heard how, as she grew up, her beauty 
was greater than that of any other maiden, and how no 
one but Artemis, the archer-queen, could shoot the 
swift arrow so fair and straight ? Have you heard what 
she did on the ship Argo, when, with Jason as our 
captain, we sailed to the utmost bounds of the earth, 
and brought home with us the fleece of gold ? Have 
you heard how, with her own arrows, she slew the 
beastly centaurs, Rhoecus and Hylaeus, because they 
dared to make love to one so pure and beautiful ? 
Doubtless you have heard all these things, and you are 
afraid to go to the field of danger with one so much 
nobler than yourself. Go back, then, to your sheep- 
tending Arcadia ! No one will miss you in the chase.’ 

“Then Cepheus blushed, but more from shame than 
anger. ‘ I will ride with you into the wood,’ said he, 
‘ and never again shall any man accuse me of having a 
timid heart.’ 

“ Soon we sallied forth from the town, a hundred 
huntsmen, with dogs innumerable. Through the fields 
and orchards, laid waste by the savage beast, we 
passed ; and Atalanta, keen of sight and swift of foot, 
her long hair floating in the wind behind her, led all 
the rest. It was not long until, in a narrow dell once 
green with vines and trees, but now strewn thick with 
withered branches, we roused the fierce creature from 


7 2 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


his lair. At first he fled, followed closely by the bay- 
ing hounds. Then suddenly he faced his foes ; with 
gnashing teeth and blood-shot eyes, he charged furi- 
ously upon them. A score of hounds were slain out- 
right ; and Cepheus, rushing blindly onward, was 
caught by the beast, and torn in pieces by his sharp 
tusks. Brave Peleus of Phthia with unsteady aim let 
fly an arrow from his bow, which, falling short of the 
mark, smote his friend Eurytion full in the breast, and 
stretched him lifeless upon the ground. Then swift- 
footed Atalanta, bounding forward, struck the beast a 
deadly blow with her spear. He stopped short his furi- 
ous onslaught ; and Amphiaraus, the hero and prophet 
of Argos, launching a swift arrow, put out one of his 
eyes. Terrible were the cries of the wounded creature, 
as, blinded and bleeding, he made a last charge upon 
the huntsmen. But Meleager with a skilful sword- 
thrust pierced his heart, and the beast fell weltering 
in his gore. Great joy filled the hearts of the Caly- 
donians, when they saw the scourge of their land laid 
low and helpless. They quickly flayed the beast, and 
the heroes who had shared in the hunt divided the 
flesh among them ; but the head and the bristly hide 
they gave to Meleager. 

“ ‘ Not to me does the prize belong,’ he cried, ‘but to 
Atalanta, the swift-footed huntress. For the first wound 
— the true death-stroke, indeed — was given by her; 
and to her, woman though she be, all honor and the 
prize must be awarded.’ 


Two Famous Boar-Hunts . 


73 


‘‘With these words, he bore the grinning head and the 
bristly hide to the fair young huntress, and laid them 
at her feet. Then his uncles, the sons of Acarnanian 
Thestios, rushed angrily forward, saying that no woman 
should ever bear a prize away from them ; and they 
seized the hide, and would have taken it away, had not 
Meleager forbidden them. Yet they would not loose 
their hold upon the prize, but drew their swords, and 
wrathfully threatened Meleager’s life. The hero’s heart 
grew hot within him, and he shrunk not from the affray. 
Long and fearful was the struggle, — uncles against 
nephew ; but in the end the sons of Thestios lay bleed- 
ing upon the ground, while the victor brought again the 
boar’s hide, and laid it the second time at Atalanta’s 
feet. The fair huntress took the prize, and carried it 
away with her to deck her father’s hall in the pleasant 
Arcadian land. And the heroes, when they had feasted 
nine other days with King Oineus, betook themselves 
to their own homes. 

“But the hearts of the Acarnanians were bitter 
towards Meleager, because of the death of the sons of 
Thestios, and because no part of the wild boar was 
awarded to them. They called their chiefs around 
them, and all their brave men, and made war upon King 
Oineus and Meleager. Many battles did they fight 
round Calydon, and among the ALtolian hills ; yet while 
Meleager led his warriors to the fray, the Acarnanians 
fared but ill. 

“ Then Queen Althea, filled with grief for her broth- 


74 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


ers’ untimely death, forgot her love for her son, and 
prayed that her Acarnanian kinsmen might prevail 
against him. Upon the hard earth she knelt : she beat 
the ground with her hands, and heaped the dust about 
her ; and, weeping bitter tears, she called upon Hades 
and heartless Persephone to avenge her of Meleager. 
And even as she prayed, the pitiless Furies, wandering 
amid the darkness, heard her cries, and came, obedient 
to her wishes. 

“When Meleager heard that his mother had turned 
against him, he withdrew in sorrow to his own house, 
and sought comfort and peace with his wife, fair Cle- 
opatra ; and he would not lead his warriors any more 
to battle against the Acarnanians. Then the enemy 
besieged the city : a fearful tumult rose about the gates ; 
the high towers were assaulted, and everywhere the 
Calydonians were driven back dismayed and beaten. 
With uplifted hands and tearful eyes, King Oineus and 
the elders of the city came to Meleager, and besought 
him to take the field again. Rich gifts they offered 
him. They bade him choose for his own the most 
fertile farm in Calydon, — at the least fifty acres, half 
for tillage and half for vines ; but he would not listen to 
them. The din of battle thickened outside the gates ; 
the towers shook with the thundering blows of the 
besiegers. Old Oineus with trembling limbs climbed 
up the stairway to his, son’s secluded chamber, and, 
weeping, prayed him to come down and save the city 
from fire and pillage. Still he kept silent, and went not. 












MELEAGER REFUSES TO HELP IN THE DEFENCE OF THE CITY. 






























V 




































• . 













































































- 














































Two Famous Boar -Hunts. 


75 


His sisters came, and his most trusted friends. ‘Come, 
Meleager,’ they prayed, ‘forget thy grief, and think 
only of our great need. Aid thy people, or we shall 
all perish ! ’ 

“ None of these prayers moved him. The gates were 
beaten down ; the enemy was within the walls ; the 
tide of battle shook the very tower where Meleager sat ; 
the doom of Calydon seemed to be sealed. Then came 
the fair Cleopatra, and knelt before her husband, and 
besought him to withhold no longer the aid which he 
alone could give. ‘ O Meleager,’ she sobbed, ‘ none but 
thou can save us. Wilt thou sit still, and see the city 
laid in ashes, thy dearest friends slaughtered, and thy 
wife and sweet babes dragged from their homes and 
sold into cruel slavery ? ’ 

“ Then Meleager rose, and girded on his armor. To 
the streets he hastened, shouting his well-known battle- 
cry. Eagerly and hopefully did the Calydonian war- 
riors rally around him. Fiercely did they meet the foe. 
Terrible was the bloodshed. Back from the battered 
gates and the crumbling wall, the Acarnanian hosts 
were driven. A panic seized upon them. They turned 
and fled, and not many of them escaped the swords of 
Meleager’s men. 

“ Again there was peace in Calydon, and the orchards 
of King Oineus blossomed and bore fruit as of old ; 
but the gifts and large rewards which the elders had 
promised to Meleager were forgotten. He had saved 
his country, but his countrymen were ungrateful. 


76 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


“Then Meleager again laid aside his war-gear, and 
sought the quiet of his own home, and the cheering 
presence of fair Cleopatra. For the remembrance of 
his mother’s curse and his country’s ingratitude weighed 
heavily on his mind, and he cared no longer to mingle 
with his fellow-men. 

“ Then it was that Althea’s hatred of her son waxed 
stronger, and she thought of the half-burnt brand which 
she had hidden, and of the words which the fatal sisters 
had spoken so many years before. 

“‘ He is no longer my son,’ said she, ‘and why should 
I withhold the burning of the brand ? He can never 
again bring comfort to my heart ; for the blood of my 
brothers, whom I loved, is upon his head.’ 

“And she took the charred billet from the place where 
she had hidden it, and cast it again into the flames. 
And as it slowly burned away, so did the life of Melea- 
ger wane. Lovingly he bade his wife farewell ; softly 
he whispered a prayer to the unseen powers above ; and 
as the flickering flames of the fatal brand died into 
darkness, he gently breathed his last. 

“Then sharp-toothed remorse seized upon Althea, and 
the mother-love which had slept in her bosom was re- 
awakened. Too late, also, the folk of Calydon remem- 
bered who it was who had saved them from slavery and 
death. Down into the comfortless halls of Hades, 
Althea hastened to seek her son’s forgiveness. The 
loving heart of Cleopatra, surcharged with grief, was 
broken ; and her gentle spirit fled to the world of shades 


Two Famous Boar- Hunts. 


77 


to meet that of her hero-husband. And Meleager’s 
sisters would not be consoled, so great was the sorrow 
which had come upon them ; and they wept and 
lamented day and night, until kind Artemis in pity for 
their youth changed them into the birds which we call 
Meleagrides.” 

Lying on the bear-skins at his grandfather’s feet, and 
listening to stories like this, Odysseus did not feel that 
time was burdensome. The wound upon his knee 
healed slowly ; and when at last he could walk again, a 
white scar, as long and as broad as a finger, told the 
story of his combat with the fierce wild boar. By this 
time the summer was far spent, and the bard Phemius 
was impatient to return to Ithaca. 

“The grapes in your father’s vineyard are growing 
purple, and his orchards are laden with ripening fruit,” 
said he to Odysseus ; “ and the days are near at hand 
when your anxious mother will gaze with longing over 
the sea, expecting your return.” 

But there was no vessel at the port on the bay to 
carry them home by the nearest way; and days and 
months might pass ere any ship, sent thither by 
Laertes, would arrive. How, then, were they to return 
to Ithaca ? 

“Here is your uncle, bold Echion, who goes to- 
morrow to Iolcos by the sea, carrying gifts and a 
message from Autolycus to old King Peleus. We 
will go with him.” 


78 A Story of the Golden Age . 

“ But Iolcos is farther still from Ithaca,” said 
Odysseus. 

“True,” answered Phemius. “But from Iolcos, at 
this season of the year, there are many vessels sailing 
to Corinth and the islands of the sea. Once at Corinth, 
and we shall find no lack of ships to carry us across the 
bay of Crissa to our own loved Ithaca.” 

And thus the journey home was planned. It was a 
long and devious route by way of Iolcos and the Euboean 
Sea ; and no one could say how many dangers they 
might meet, or how many delays they should encounter. 
Yet nothing better could be done, if they would return 
before the summer ended. 

The great Autolycus blessed Odysseus on departing, 
and gave him rich gifts of gold and priceless gems, and 
many words of sage advice. “ I shall see thee no 
more,” he said; “but thy name shall be spoken count- 
less ages hence, and men shall say, ‘ How shrewd and 
far-seeing, brave in war, and wise in counsel, was 
Odysseus ! ’ ” 


ADVENTURE VII. 


AT OLD CHEIRON’S SCHOOL. 

After a long, hard journey by land and sea, 
Odysseus and his tutor, with bold Echion, came to 
Iolcos. Aged Peleus, king of Phthia and the fertile 
plains of Iolcos, greeted them with show of heartiest 
welcome; for he remembered that Laertes had been 
his friend and comrade long years before, when to- 
gether on the Argo they sailed the briny deep, and 
he was glad to see the son of that old comrade ; 
and he took Odysseus by the hand, and led him into 
his palace, and gave him of the best of all that 
he had. 

“Tarry with me for a month,” he said. “My ships 
are now at sea, but they will return ; and when the 
moon rises again full and round, as it did last night, I 
will send you safe to Corinth on the shores of the Bay 
of Crissa.” 

And so Odysseus and the bard staid a whole month 
at Iolcos, in the house of Peleus the king. There were 
feasting and merriment in the halls every day ; and yet 
the time hung heavily, for the boy longed to re-behold 

79 


8o 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


his own loved Ithaca, and could hardly wait to see the 
moon grow full and round again. 

“What mountain is that which looms up so grandly 
on our left, and whose sides seem covered with dark 
forests ? ” asked Odysseus one day, as he walked with 
his tutor beside the sea. 

“It is famous Mount Pelion,” said the bard; “and 
that other mountain with the steeper sides, which 
stands out faintly against the far horizon, is the scarcely 
less famed Ossa.” 

“ I have heard my father speak of piling Pelion upon 
Ossa,” said Odysseus, “but I cannot understand how 
that can be done.” 

“ There were once two brothers, the tallest that the 
grain -giving earth has ever reared,” said Phemius. 
“ Their names were Otus and Ephialtes ; and they 
threatened to make war even against the deathless 
ones who dwell on Mount Olympus. They boasted 
that they would pile Ossa on Olympus, and Pelion, 
with all its woods, upon the top of Ossa, that so they 
might make a pathway to the sky. And, had they 
lived to manhood’s years, no one can say what deeds 
they would have done. But silver-bowed Apollo, with 
his swift arrows, slew the twain ere yet the down had 
bloomed upon their cheeks or darkened their chins 
with the promise of manhood. And so Pelion still 
stands beside the sea, and Ossa, in its own place, 
guards the lovely vale of Tempe.” 1 

1 See Odyssey, Book xi. 1 . 306. 


At Old C heir on' s School. 


81 


“ Oh, now I remember something else about Mount 
Pelion,” cried Odysseus. “ It was from the trees which 
grew upon its sides, that the ship Argo was built. 
And I have heard my father tell how Cheiron the 
Centaur once lived in a cave on Pelion, and taught 
the young heroes who came to learn of him ; and how 
young Jason came down the mountain one day, and 
boldly stood before King Pelias, who had robbed old 
iEson, his father, of the kingdom which was rightfully 
his. Would that I had been one of Cheiron’s pupils, 
and had shared the instruction which he gave to those 
youthful heroes ! ” 

“The old Centaur still lives in his cave on Mount 
Pelion,” said Phemius. “To-morrow, if King Peleus is 
willing, we will go and see him.” 

And so, the next day, the two went out of Iolcos, 
through vineyards and fields and olive-orchards, to- 
wards Pelion, the snow-crowned warder of the shore. 
They followed a winding pathway, and came ere long 
to the foot of the mighty mountain. Above them were 
frowning rocks, and dark forests of pine, which seemed 
ready to fall upon and crush them. But among the 
trees, and in the crannies of the rocks, there grew 
thousands of sweetest flowers, and every kind of health 
giving herb, and tender grass for the mountain-climbing 
deer. Up and up they climbed, until the dark forests 
gave place to stunted shrubs, and the shrubs to barren 
rocks. Then the pathway led downward again to the 
head of a narrow glen, where roared a foaming water- 


82 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


fall. There they came to the mouth of a cave opening 
out upon a sunny ledge, and almost hidden behind a 
broad curtain of blossoming vines. From within the 
cave there came the sound of music, — the sweet 
tones of a harp, mingled with the voices of singers. 

Of what did they sing ? 

They sang of things pure and good and beautiful, — 
of the mighty sea, and the grain-bearing earth, and the 
blue vault of heaven ; of faith, strong and holy ; of 
hope, bright and trustful ; of love, pure and mighty. 
Then the singing ceased, and the harp was laid aside. 

Odysseus and the bard went quickly forward, and 
stood waiting beside the wide-open door. They could 
see, by looking in, that the low walls of the cave were 
adorned with shields of leather or bronze, with the 
antlers of deer, and with many other relics of battle 
or of the chase. Upon the smooth white floor were 
soft couches of bear-skins ; and upon the hearth-stone 
in the centre blazed a bright fire of twigs, casting a 
ruddy, flickering light into the farthest nook and cranny 
of that strange room. 

They had not long to wait at the door. An old man 
with white hair, and beard reaching to his waist, with 
eyes as clear and bright as those of a falcon, and with 
a step as firm as that of youth, came quickly forward to 
greet them. Odysseus thought that he had never seen 
a man with so noble and yet so sad a mien. 

“ Hail, strangers ! ” said the aged hero, taking their 
hands. “Hail, son of Laertes — for I know thee ! — 


At Old C heir on's School. 


83 


welcome to the home of Cheiron, the last of his race ! 
Come in, and you shall be kindly entertained ; and after 
you have rested your weary limbs, you shall tell me 
why you have come to Pelion, and what favor you 
have to ask of me.” 

Therewith he turned again into the broad cave-hall, 
and Odysseus and his tutor followed him. And he led 
his guests, and seated them on pleasant couches not far 
from the glowing fire upon the hearth. Then a comely 
youth brought water in a stone pitcher, and poured it 
in a basin, that they might wash their hands. And 
another lad brought wheaten bread, and set it by them 
on a polished table ; and another brought golden honey 
in the honeycomb, and many other dainties, and laid 
them on the board. And when they were ready, a 
fourth lad lifted and placed before them a platter of 
venison, and cups full of ice-cold water from the moun- 
tain cataract. While they sat, partaking of these boun- 
ties, not a word was spoken in the cave ; for old 
Cheiron never forgot the courtesy due to guests and 
strangers. When they had finished, he bade them stay 
a while upon the couches where they sat ; and he took a 
golden lyre in his hands, and deftly touched the chords, 
bringing forth the most restful music that Odysseus had 
ever heard. He played a soft, low melody which seemed 
to carry their minds far away into a summer-land of 
peace, where they wandered at will by the side of still 
waters, and through sunlit fields and groves, and re- 
posed under the shelter of calm blue skies, shielded 


8 4 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


by the boundless love of the unknown Creator. When 
he had finished, Odysseus thought no more of the toil- 
some journey from Iolcos, or of the wearisome climbing 
of the mountain : he thought only of the wise and 
wonderful old man who sat before him 

“Now tell me,” said Cheiron, laying his lyre aside, — 
“ tell me what errand brings you hither, and what I can 
do to aid you.” 

“We have no errand,” answered Phemius, “save to 
see one of the immortals, and to listen to the words of 
wisdom and beauty which fall from his lips. We know 
that you have been the friend and teacher of heroes 
such as have not had their peers on earth ; and this 
lad Odysseus, who is himself the son of a hero, would 
fain learn something from you.” 

Cheiron smiled, and looked full into the young lad’s 
face. 

“I have trained many such youths as you for the 
battle of life,” he said. “ And your father, as were all 
the Argonauts, was well known to me. You are wel- 
come to Mount Pelion, and to old Cheiron’s school. 
But why do you look at my feet ? ” 

Odysseus blushed, but could make no answer. 

“I understand it,” said Cheiron, speaking in a tone 
of sadness. “You expected to find me half man, half 
horse, and you were looking for the hoofs ; for thus 
have many men thought concerning me and my race. 
Long time ago my people dwelt in the valleys and upon 
the plains of Thessaly ; and they were the first who 


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85 


tamed the wild horses of the desert flats, and taught 
them to obey the hand of their riders. For untold years 
my fathers held this land, and they were as free a*s the 
winds which play upon the top of Pelion. Their war- 
riors, galloping on their swift horses with their long 
lances ready in their hands, knew no fear, nor met any 
foe that could stand against them; and hence men 
called them Centaurs , 1 the piercers of the air. But by 
and by there came a strong people from beyond the 
sea, who built houses of stone, and lived in towns ; and 
these made cruel war upon the swift-riding Centaurs. 
They were the Lapiths , 2 the stone-persuaders, and they 
had never seen or heard of horses ; and for a long time 
they fancied that our warriors were monsters, half-steed, 
half-man, living wild among the mountains and upon 
the plain. And so the story has gone abroad through- 
out the world, that all the Centaurs, and even I, the 
last of the race, are hardly human, but have hoofs and 
manes, and live as horses live. 

“Long and sad was the war between the Centaurs 
and the Lapiths ; but the stone - persuaders were 
stronger than the piercers of the air. In time, my 
people were driven into the mountains, where they 
lived as wild men in the caves, and in the sunless 
gorges and ravines ; and their enemies, the Lapiths, 
abode in the rich valleys, and held the broad pasture- 
lands which had once been theirs. Then it chanced 
that Peirithous, king of the Lapiths, saw Hippodameia, 


1 From k. evrelv ttji/ avpav. 


2 From A.aa? ireiOetv. 


86 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


fairest of our mountain maidens, and wished to wed 
her. Whether her father consented to the marriage, 
or whether the Lapiths carried her away by force, I 
cannot tell ; but Peirithous made a great wedding-feast, 
and to it he invited the chiefs of the Centaurs, and 
great Theseus of Athens, and Nestor of sandy Pylos, 
and many others of the noblest heroes of Hellas. 
Many wild and dark stories have been told of what 
happened at that wedding-feast ; but you must remem- 
ber that all these stories have come from the mouths 
of our enemies, the stone-persuading Lapiths, and that 
their truth may well be doubted. Let me tell you about 
it, as I understand the facts to be : — 

“ In the midst of the feast, when the Lapiths were 
drunken with wine, Eurytion, the boldest of the Cen- 
taurs, rose quickly to his feet, and beckoned to his 
fellows. Without a word they seized upon the bride ; 
they carried her, not unwilling, from the hall ; they 
seated her upon a swift steed which stood ready at the 
door ; then in hot haste they mounted, aiming to ride 
with their prize back to their mountain homes. But 
the Lapiths were aroused, and rushed from the hall 
ere our horsemen were outside of the gates. Fearful 
was the struggle which followed. Our men were armed 
with pine clubs only, which they had hidden beneath 
their cloaks, for they dared not bring weapons to the 
wedding-feast. The Lapiths fought with spears ; and 
with pitiless hate they slew one after another of the 
Centaurs, until hardly a single man escaped to the 


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87 


mountains. But the war ended not with that ; for 
Peirithous, burning with anger, drove the remnant of 
my people out of their mountain homes, and forced 
them to flee far away to the lonely land of Pindus ; and 
I, alone of all my race, was left in my cavern-dwelling 
on the wooded slopes of Pelion.” 

When Cheiron had ended his story, Odysseus saw 
that his eyes were filled with tears, and that his hand 
trembled as he reached again for his lyre, and played a 
short, sad melody, as mournful as a funeral song. 

“ Why did you not go with your kindred to the land 
of Pindus ? ” asked Phemius. 

“This is my home,” answered Cheiron. “The fair 
valley which you see yonder was once my father’s 
pasture-land. All the country that lies before us, even 
to the meeting of the earth and the sky, is the country 
of my forefathers. I have neither parents, nor brothers, 
nor wife, nor children. Why should I wish to go away 
from all that is dear to me ? This is a pleasant place, 
and the young boys who have been my pupils have 
made my life very happy.” 

“ Please tell us about your pupils,” said Odysseus, 
moving nearer to the wise old man. 

“So many boys have been under my care,” said 
Cheiron, “that I could not tell you about them all. 
Some have come and been taught, and gone back 
to their homes ; and the world has never heard of 
them, because their lots have been cast in pleasant 
places, and their lives have been spent in peace. 


88 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


There have been others who have made their names 
famous upon the earth ; for their paths were beset with 
difficulties, and before them loomed great mountains 
which they must needs remove or be crushed by them. 
Among these latter were Heracles, doomed to a life 
of labor, because another had usurped the place which 
he should have had ; young Jason, hiding from the cruel 
hatred of his uncle Pelias ; and gentle Asclepius, bereft 
of a mother’s love, and cast friendless upon the world’s 
cold mercies. And there were also Peleus my grand- 
son, who is now your host at Iolcos ; and Actseon, the 
famous hunter ; and many of the heroes who afterward 
sailed on the Argo, to the golden strand of Colchis. 
Each of these lads had a mind of his own, and tastes 
which it was for me to foster and to train. Heracles 
was headstrong, selfish, impulsive, — terrible when he 
did not bridle his passions ; and yet his great heart 
was full of love for the poor, the weak, and the down- 
trodden, and he studied to make plans for lightening 
their burdens. Jason loved the water ; and wrapped in 
his cloak, he would sit for hours on Pelion’s top, and 
gaze with longing eyes upon the purple sea. Asclepius 
delighted to wander among the crags and in the ravines 
of Pelion, gathering herbs and flowers, and studying the 
habits of birds and beasts. And Actaeon had a passion 
for the woods and the fields, and had ever a pack of 
swift hounds at his heels, ready for the chase of wild 
boar or mountain deer. 

“ When these lads came to me, I saw that I must give 


At Old C heir on's School , 


89 


to each the food which was best fitted for his needs, and 
which his mind most craved. Had I dealt with all 
alike, and taught all the same lessons, I doubt if any 
would have grown to manhood’s full estate. But, while 
I curbed the headstrong will of Heracles, I did what I 
could to foster his love of virtue and his inventive 
genius ; I taught young Jason all that I knew about 
this wonderful earth, and the seas and islands which lie 
around it ; I led Asclepius farther along the pathway 
which he had chosen, and showed him the virtues that 
were hidden in plants and flowers ; I went with Actaeon 
upon the chase, and taught him that there is no sport 
in cruelty, and that the life of the weakest creature 
should not be taken without good cause. Thus I 
moulded the mind of each of the lads according to 
its bent ; and each one grew in stature and in strength 
and in beauty, before my eyes. And then there were 
general lessons which I gave to them all, leading them 
to the knowledge of those things which are necessary 
to the well-equipped and perfect man of our day. I 
taught them how to wield the weapons of warfare and 
of the chase ; how to ride and to swim ; and how to 
bear fatigue without murmuring, and face danger with- 
out fear. And I showed them how to take care of 
their own bodies, so that they might be strong and 
graceful, and full of health and vigor; and I taught 
them how to heal diseases, and how to treat wounds, 
and how to nurse the sick. And, more than all else, 
I taught them to reverence and love that great Power, 


9 o 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


so little understood by us, but whom mankind will some 
day learn to know. 

“ It was not long till Heracles went out in his might 
to rid the world of monsters, to defend the innocent 
and the helpless, and to set right that which is wrong ; 
and, for aught I know, he is toiling still along the 
straight road of Virtue, towards the blue mountains of 
Fame. And Jason, as you know, left me, and went 
down to Iolcos, to claim his birthright of old Pelias ; 
and being bidden to bring the Golden Fleece to Hellas, 
he built the Argo, and sailed with the heroes to far- 
away Colchis. It was a proud day for me, his old 
teacher, when he came back to Iolcos with the glitter- 
ing treasure ; and I trusted that a life of happiness and 
glory was before him. But, alas ! he had forgotten my 
teaching, and had joined himself to evil ; and Medea 
the witch, whom he loved, brought untold misery upon 
his head, and drove him ere long to an untimely 
death. 

“Then Asclepius went out upon his mission; and 
everywhere that he went, he healed and purified and 
raised and blessed. He was the greatest conqueror 
among all my pupils ; but he won, not by strength like 
Heracles, nor by guile like Jason, but through gentle- 
ness and sympathy and brotherly love, and by knowl- 
edge and skill and patient self-sacrifice ; and to him 
men gave the highest honor, because he cured while 
others killed. But the powers of darkness are ever 
hateful towards the good ; and Hades, when he saw 


At Old C 'heir on s School. 91 

that Asclepius snatched back to life even those who 
were at death’s door, complained that the great healer 
was robbing his kingdom. And men say that Zeus 
hearkened to this complaint, and that he smote Ascle- 
pius with his thunderbolts. Then the face of the sun 
was veiled in sorrow, and men and beasts and all crea- 
tures upon the earth wept for great grief, and the trees 
dropped their leaves to the ground, and the flowers 
closed their petals and withered upon their stalks, be- 
cause the gentle physician, who had cured all pains and 
sickness, was no longer in the land of the living. And 
the wrath of silver-bowed Apollo was stirred within him, 
and he went down to the great smithy of Hephaestus, 
and, with his swift arrows, slew the Cyclopes who had 
forged the thunderbolts for Zeus, and spared not one. 
Then Zeus in his turn was filled with anger; and he 
sent the golden-haired Apollo to Pherae, in Thessaly, 
to serve for a whole year as bondsman to King 
Admetus.” 1 

At this moment, a tall and very handsome lad, whom 
Odysseus had not yet seen, came into the room. He 
was not more than six years old ; his long amber hair 
fell in waves upon his shoulders ; his eyes twinkled and 
flashed like the sunlight on the blue sea waves; he 
held his head erect, and he walked with a noble grace 
which betokened the proud soul within his breast. 
The eyes of Odysseus were fixed upon him, and he 
wondered who this noble human being could be. 

1 See Note 7 at the end of this volume. 


92 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


Cheiron saw his questioning look, and called the young 
lad to him. 

“Odysseus,” said he, “this is my great-grandchild, 
young Achilles, the son of King Peleus your host. 
Something tells me that your life and his will in after- 
times be strangely mingled ; whether as friends or as 
foes, I cannot tell. You shall be friends to-day, at 
least, and after a while you shall go out together, and 
try your skill at archery. But, Achilles, you may go 
now and play with your fellows : I have something 
more to say to young Odysseus.” 

The lad turned, and left the room as gracefully as he 
had entered. Then Cheiron turned again to Odysseus 
and the bard. 

“ I was telling you about my pupils,” he said ; “ and 
I will speak of but one other, for there are reasons 
why you should know his history. Peleus, the son of 
^Eacus and my loved daughter Endeis, was brought to 
me by his mother from Angina. There was something 
in the boy’s face which showed that a strange, sad life 
was to be his ; and, although he was not a promising 
lad, yet when he left me to go with Jason to Colchis, 
I felt great grief at losing him. But by and by, after 
the heroes had returned, I heard that Peleus had done 
many wicked things in -<Egina, and that he had been 
driven into exile for his crimes. He went first to Ceyx 
in Thessaly, a lonely wanderer, cast off and forsaken 
by all his friends. And a story is told, that in his lone- 
liness and his sorrow, he one day prayed to Zeus that 


At Old C heir 071 s School. 


93 


he would give him companions. And Zeus heard his 
prayer, and great armies of ants were changed at once 
into men ; and they did homage to Peleus, and became 
his subjects, and hence he is still called the King 
of the Myrmidons. Then he went to Phthia where 
Eurytion reigned. And Eurytion purified him from 
his crimes, and gave him his daughter Antigone in 
wedlock, and with her the third of his kingdom. But 
in an evil day they hunted the wild boar together in 
the woods of Calydon, and Peleus unwittingly slew his 
friend with an ill-aimed arrow. Then he fled from 
the people of Phthia, and came to Iolcos, where Acas- 
tus, the son of old Pelias, ruled. And Acastus wel- 
comed him kindly, and purified him from the stain of 
Eurytion’s death, and gave him of the best of all that 
he had, and entertained him for a long time as his 
guest. But Astydamia, the wife of King Acastus, 
falsely accused Peleus of another crime, and besought 
her husband to slay him. Then the heart of Acastus 
was sad, for he would not shed the blood of one who 
was his guest. But he persuaded Peleus to join him in 
hunting wild beasts in the woods of Pelion ; for he 
hoped that then some way might open for him to rid 
himself of the unfortunate man. All day long they 
toiled up and down the slopes ; they climbed the steep 
cliffs ; they forced their way through brakes and briery 
thickets; and at last Peleus was so overwearied that 
he sank down on a bed of moss, and fell asleep. Then 
Acastus slyly took his weapons from him, and left him 


94 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


there alone and unarmed, hoping that the wild beasts 
would find and slay him. When Peleus awoke, he 
saw himself surrounded by mountain robbers ; he felt 
for his sword, but it was gone ; even his shield was 
nowhere to be found. He called aloud to Acastus, but 
the king was dining at that moment in Iolcos. I 
heard his cry, however; I knew his voice, and I has- 
tened to his aid. The robbers fled when they saw me 
coming ; and I led my dear but erring grandson back to 
my cavern, where the days of his boyhood and inno- 
cence had been spent. 

“But I see that the sun is sinking in the west. I 
will say no more until after we have partaken of food.” 

With these words Cheiron arose, and left the room. 
Odysseus, anxious to become acquainted with the lads, 
arose also, and walked out into the open air. Achilles 
was waiting for him just outside the door, and the two 
boys were soon talking with each other as if they had 
long been friends. 


ADVENTURE VIII 


THE GOLDEN APPLE. 

After the evening meal had been eaten and the cave- 
hall set in order, the lads brought armloads of dry sticks 
and twigs, and threw them upon the fire. And the 
flame leaped up, and shone upon all around with a ruddy 
glow ; and the great cavern was emptied of gloom, and 
was so filled with light and warmth that it seemed a fit 
place for joy and pleasure. Old Cheiron sat upon his 
high couch like a king upon his throne ; and the five 
comely lads, with Odysseus, sat before him, while 
Phemius the bard stood leaning against the wall. After 
Cheiron had played a brief melody upon his harp, and 
the boys had sung a pleasant song, the wise old master 
thus began : — 

“ There is a cavern somewhere on Mount Pelion 
larger by far and a thousand times more beautiful than 
this ; but its doorway is hidden to mortals, and but few 
men have ever stood beneath its vaulted roof. In that 
cavern the ever-living ones who oversee the affairs of 
men, once held high carnival ; for they had met there 

95 


96 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


at the marriage-feast of King Peleus, and the woods 
and rocks of mighty Pelion echoed with the sound of 
their merry-making. But wherefore should the mar- 
riage-feast of a mortal be held in such a place and with 
guests so noble and so great ? I will tell you. 

“ After Peleus had escaped from the plot which King 
Acastus had laid for him, he dwelt long time with me ; 
for he feared to go down upon the plain lest the men 
of Iolcos should seize him by order of Acastus, or the 
folk of Phthia should kill him in revenge for old Eury- 
tion’s death. But the days seemed long to him, thus 
shut out from fellowship with men, and the sun seemed 
to move slowly in the heavens ; and often he would 
walk around to the other side of the mountain, and 
sitting upon a great rock, he would gaze for long hours 
upon the purple waters of the sea. One morning as 
thus he sat, he saw the sea-nymph Thetis come up out 
of the waves and walk upon the shore beneath him. 
P"airer than a dream was she, — more beautiful than 
any picture of nymph or goddess. She was clad in a 
robe of sea-green silk, woven by the Naiads in their 
watery grottos ; and there was a chaplet of pearls upon 
her head, and sandals of sparkling silver were upon her 
feet. 

“ As Peleus gazed upon this lovely creature, he heard 
a voice whispering in his ear. It was the voice of 
Pallas Athen6. 

“‘Most luckless of mortal men,’ she said, ‘there is 
recompense in store for those who repent of their 





THE SILVER FOOTED THETIS RISING FROM THE WAVES. 
























































The Golden Apple . 


97 


wrong-doing, and who, leaving the paths of error, turn 
again to the road of virtue. The immortals have seen 
thy sorrow for the evil deeds of thy youth, and they 
have looked with pity upon thee in thy misfortunes. 
And now thy days of exile and of sore punishment are 
drawing to an end. Behold the silver-footed Thetis, 
most beautiful of the nymphs of the sea, whom even 
the immortals have wooed in vain ! She has been sent 
to this shore, to be won and wedded by thee.’ 

“ Peleus looked up to see the speaker of these words, 
but he beheld only a blue cloud resting above the 
mountain-top ; he turned his eyes downward again, and, 
to his grief, the silver-footed Thetis had vanished in the 
waves. All day he sat and waited for her return, but 
she came not. When darkness began to fall he sought 
me in my cave-hall, and told me what he had seen and 
heard ; and I taught him how to win the sea-nymph for 
his bride. 

“ So when the sun again gilded the crags of Pelion, 
brave Peleus hid himself among the rocks close by 
the sea-washed shore, and waited for the coming of the 
silver-footed lady of the sea. In a little time she rose, 
beautiful as the star of morning, from the waves. She 
sat down upon the beach, and dallied with her golden 
tresses, and sang sweet songs of a happy land in the 
depths of the sounding sea. Peleus, bearing in mind 
what I had taught him, arose from his hiding-place, and 
caught the beauteous creature in his arms. In vain 
did she struggle to leap into the waves. Seven times 


98 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


she changed her form as he held her : by turns she 
changed into a fountain of water, into a cloud of mist, 
into a burning flame, and into a senseless rock. But 
Peleus held her fast; and she changed then into a 
tawny lion, and then into a tall tree, and lastly she took 
her own matchless form again. 

“ And Peleus held the lovely Thetis by the hand, and 
they walked long time together upon the beach, while 
the birds sang among the leafy trees on Pelion’s slopes, 
and the dolphins sported in the sparkling waters at their 
feet ; and Peleus wooed the silver-footed lady, and won 
her love, and she promised to be his bride. Then the 
immortals were glad ; and they fitted up the great cavern 
on Mount Pelion for a banquet-hall, and made therein 
a wedding-feast, such as was never seen before. The 
vaulted roof of the cavern was decked with gems which 
shone like the stars of heaven ; a thousand torches, 
held by lovely mountain nymphs, flamed from the niches 
in the high walls ; and upon the floor of polished marble, 
tables for ten thousand guests were ranged. 

“ When the wedding-feast was ready, all those who 
live on high Olympus, and all the immortals who dwell 
upon the earth, came to rejoice with King Peleus and 
his matchless bride ; and they brought rich presents for 
the bridegroom, such as were never given to another 
man. They gave him a suit of armor, rich and fair, a 
wonder to behold, which lame Hephaestus with rare 
skill had wrought and fashioned. Poseidon bestowed on 
him the deathless horses, Balios and Xanthos, and a 


The Golden Apple . 


99 


deftly-wrought chariot with trimmings of gold. And I, 
one of the least of the guests, gave him an ashen spear 
which I had cut on Pelion’s top, and fashioned with my 
own hands. 

“ At the table sat Zeus, the father of gods and men ; 
and his wife, the white-armed Here ; and smile-loving 
Aphrodite ; and gray-eyed Pallas Athene ; and all the 
wisest and the fairest of the immortals. The Nereides, 
nymphs of the sea, danced in honor of Thetis their 
sister ; and the Muses sang their sweetest songs ; and 
silver-bowed Apollo played upon the lyre. The Fates, 
too, were there : sad Clotho, twirling her spindle ; un- 
loving Lachesis, with wrinkled lips ready to speak the 
fatal word; and pitiless Atropos, holding in her hand 
the unsparing shears. And around the table passed the 
youthful and joy-giving Hebe, pouring out rich draughts 
of nectar for the guests. 

“Yet there was one among all the immortals who 
had not been invited to the wedding ; it was Eris, the 
daughter of War and Hate. Her scowling features, 
and her hot and hasty manners, were ill-suited to grace 
a feast where all should be mirth and gladness ; yet in 
her evil heart she planned to be avenged for the slight 
which had been put upon her. While the merry-making 
was at its height, and the company were listening to 
the music from Apollo’s lyre, she came unseen into the 
hall, and threw a golden apple upon the table. No one 
knew whence the apple came ; but on it were written 
these words, ‘ For the Fairest/ 


IOO 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


“‘To whom does it belong?’ asked Zeus, stroking 
his brows in sad perplexity. 

“The music ceased, and mirth and jollity fled at once 
from the banquet. The torches, which lit up the scene, 
flickered and smoked ; the lustre of the gems in the 
vaulted roof was dimmed ; dark clouds canopied the 
great hall : for Discord had taken her place at the table, 
uninvited and unwelcome though she was. 

“ ‘ The apple belongs to me,’ said Here, trying to 
snatch it; ‘for I am the queen, and gods and men 
honor me as having no peer on earth.’ 

“ ‘ Not so ! ’ cried white-armed Aphrodite. ‘ With me 
dwell Love and Joy ; and not only do gods and men 
sing my praises, but all nature rejoices in my presence. 
The apple is mine, and I will have it ! ’ 

“Then Athene joined in the quarrel. ‘ What is it to 
be a queen,’ said she, ‘if at the same time one lacks 
that good temper which sweetens life ? What is it to 
have a handsome form and face, while the mind is un- 
couth and ill-looking ? Beauty of mind is better than 
beauty of face ; for the former is immortal, while the 
latter fades and dies. Hence no one has a better right 
than I to be called the fairest.’ 

“ Then the strife spread among the guests in the hall, 
each taking sides with the goddess that he loved best ; 
and, where peace and merriment had reigned, now hot 
words and bitter wrangling were heard. And had not 
Zeus bidden them keep silence, thus putting an end to 
the quarrel, all Pelion would have been rent, and the 


The Golden Apple. 


IOI 


earth shaken to its centre by the melee which would 
have followed. 

“ ‘ Let us waste no words over this matter/ he said. 
‘ It is not for the immortals to say who of their num- 
ber is most beautiful. But on the slopes of Mount Ida, 
far across the sea, the fairest of the sons of men — 
Paris, the son of Trojan Priam — keeps his flocks; let 
him judge who is fairest, and let the apple be hers to 
whom he gives it.’ 

“Then Hermes, the swift-footed messenger, arose, 
and led the three goddesses over sea and land to distant 
Ida, where Paris, with no thought of the wonderful life 
which lay before him, piped on his shepherd’s reeds, 
and tended his flock of sheep.” 

Here Cheiron paused in his story ; and the five lads, 
who had heard it oftentimes before, bade him a kind 
good-night, and withdrew into an inner chamber to 
pass the hours in sleep. When more wood had been 
thrown upon the fire, and the flames leaped up high 
and bright towards the roof of the cave, Odysseus 
and Phemius sat down again before the wise old mas- 
ter, and asked him to finish the tale which he had 
begun. 

“But first tell us,” said Odysseus, “about that Paris, 
who was to award the golden apple to the one whom 
he should deem the fairest.” 

Then Cheiron smiled, and went on thus with his 
story : — 


102 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


“On the other side of the sea there stands a city, 
rich and mighty, the like of which there is none in 
Hellas. There an old man, named Priam, rules over a 
happy and peace-loving people. He dwells in a great 
palace of polished marble, on a hill overlooking the 
plain ; and his granaries are stored with corn, and his 
flocks and herds are pastured on the hills and mountain 
slopes behind the city. Many sons has King Priam ; 
and they are brave and noble youths, well worthy of 
such a father. The eldest of these sons is Hector, who, 
the Trojans hope, will live to bring great honor to his 
native land. Just before the second son was born, a 
strange thing troubled the family of old Priam. The 
queen had dreamed that her babe had turned into a 
firebrand, which burned up the walls and the high 
towers of Troy, and left but smouldering ashes where 
once the proud city stood. She told the king her 
dream ; and when the child was born, they called a 
soothsayer, who could foresee the mysteries of the 
future, and they asked him what the vision meant. 

“ ‘ It means,’ said he, * that this babe, if he lives, shall 
be a firebrand in Troy, and shall turn its walls and its 
high towers into heaps of smouldering ashes.’ 

“‘But what shall be done with the child, that he 
may not do this terrible thing ? ” asked Priam, greatly 
sorrowing, for the babe was very beautiful. 

‘“Do not suffer that he shall live,’ answered the 
soothsayer. 

“ But Priam, the gentlest and most kind-hearted of 


The Golden Apple . 


103 


men, could not bear to harm the babe. So he called 
Archelaus, his master shepherd, and bade him take 
the helpless child into the thick woods, which grow 
high up on the slopes of Ida, and there to leave him 
alone. The wild beasts which roam among those woods, 
he thought, would doubtless find him, or, in any case, 
he could not live long without care and nourishment ; 
and thus the dangerous brand would be quenched while 
yet it was scarcely a spark. 

“The shepherd did as he was bidden, although it 
cost his heart many a sharp pang thus to deal barbar- 
ously with the innocent. He laid the smiling infant, 
wrapped in its broidered tunic, close by the foot of an 
oak, and then hurried away that he might not hear 
its cries. But the Dryads, who haunt the woods and 
groves, saw the babe, and pitied its helplessness, and 
cared for it so that it did not die. Some brought it 
yellow honey from the stores of the wild bee ; some fed 
it with milk from the white goats which fed on the 
pastures below ; and others stood as sentinels around 
it, guarding it from the wolves and bears. Thus five 
days passed, and Archelaus the shepherd, who could 
not forget the babe, came cautiously to the spot to see 
if, mayhap, even its broidered cloak had been spared 
by the beasts. Sorrowful and shuddering he glanced 
toward the foot of the tree. To his surprise, the babe 
was still there ; it looked up and smiled, and stretched 
its fat hands toward him. The shepherd’s heart would 
not let him turn away the second time. He took the 


104 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


child in his arms, and carried it to his own humble home 
in the valley, where he cared for it and brought it up 
as his own son. 

“ The boy grew to be very tall and very handsome ; 
and he was so brave, and so helpful to the shepherds 
around Mount Ida, that they called him Alexandros, or 
the helper of men ; but his foster-father named him 
Paris. And as he tended his sheep in the mountain 
dells, he met CEnone, the fairest of the river-maidens, 
guileless and pure as the waters of the stream by whose 
banks she loved to wander. Day after day he sat with 
her in the shadow of her woodland home, and talked of 
innocence and beauty, and of a life of sweet content- 
ment, and of love ; and the maiden listened to him with 
wide-open eyes and a heart full of trustfulness and faith. 
Then, by and by, Paris and CEnone were wedded ; and 
their little cottage in the mountain glen was the fairest 
and happiest spot in Ilios. The days sped swiftly by, 
and neither of them dreamed that any sorrow was in 
store for them ; and to CEnone her shepherd-husband 
was all the world, because he was so noble and brave 
and handsome and gentle. 

“ One warm summer afternoon, Paris sat in the shade 
of a tree at the foot of Mount Ida, while his flocks were 
pasturing upon the hillside before him. The bees 
were humming lazily among the flowers ; the cicadas 
were chirping among the leaves above his head ; and 
now and then a bird twittered softly among the bushes 
behind him. All else was still, as if enjoying to the 


The Golden Apple. 105 

full the delicious calm of that pleasant day. Paris was 
fashioning a slender reed into a shepherd’s flute ; while 
CEnone, sitting in the deeper shadows of some cluster- 
ing vines, was busy with some simple piece of needle- 
work. A sound as of sweet music caused the young 
shepherd to raise his eyes. Before him stood the four 
immortals, Here, Athene, Aphrodite, and Hermes the 
messenger ; their faces shone with a dazzling radiance, 
and they were fairer than any tongue can describe. At 
their feet rare flowers sprang up, crocuses and aspho- 
dels and white lilies ; and the air was filled with the 
odor of orange-blossoms. Paris, scarce knowing what 
he did, arose to greet them. No handsomer youth ever 
stood in the presence of beauty. Straight as a moun- 
tain pine was he ; a leopard-skin hung carelessly upon 
his shoulders ; his head was bare, but his locks clus- 
tered round his temples in sunny curls, and formed fit 
framework for his fair brows. 

“Then Hermes spoke first : 1 Paris, we have come to 
seek thy help ; there is strife among the folk who dwell 
on Mount Olympus. Here are Here, Athene, and Aph- 
rodite, each claiming to be the fairest, and each clamor- 
ing for this prize, this golden apple. Now we pray that 
you will judge this matter, and give the apple to the 
one whom you may deem most beautiful.’ 

“ Then Here began her plea at once : ‘ I know that 
I am the fairest,’ she said, Tor I am queen, and mine 
it is to rule among gods and men. Give me the 
prize, and you shall have wealth, and a kingdom, and 


1 06 A Story of the Golden Age. 

great glory; and men in after-times shall sing your 
praises.’ 

“ And Paris was half tempted to give the apple, with- 
out further ado, to Here the proud queen. But gray- 
eyed Athene spoke : ‘ There is that, fair youth, which 
is better than riches or honor, or great glory. Listen 
to me, and I will give thee wisdom, and a pure heart ; 
and thy life shall be crowned with peace, and sweetened 
with love, and made strong by knowledge. And though 
men may not sing of thee in after-times, thou shalt find 
lasting happiness in the answer of a good conscience 
towards all things.’ 

“ Then CEnone whispered from her place among the 
leaves, ‘Give the prize to Athend ; she is the fairest.’ 
And Paris would have placed the golden apple in her 
hand, had not Aphrodite stepped quickly forward, and 
in the sweetest, merriest tones, addressed him. 

“ ‘You may look at my face, and judge for yourself as 
to whether I am fair,’ said she, laughing, and tossing 
her curls. ‘ All I shall say is this : Give me the prize, 
and you shall have for your wife the most beautiful 
woman in the world.’ 

“ The heart of CEnone stood still as Paris placed the 
apple in Aphrodite’s hand ; and a nameless dread came 
over her, as if the earth were sinking beneath her feet. 
But the next moment the blood came back to her cheeks, 
and she breathed free and strong again ; for she heard 
Paris say, ‘ I have a wife, CEnone, who to me is the 
loveliest of mortals, and I care not for your offer ; yet 


The Golden Apple. 


107 


I give to you the apple, for I know that you are the 
fairest among the deathless ones who live on high 
Olympus.’ 

“ On the very next day it happened that King Priam 
sat thoughtfully in his palace, and all his boys and 
girls — nearly fifty in number — were about him. His 
mind turned sadly to the little babe whom he had sent 
away, many years ago, to die alone on wooded Ida. 
And he said to himself, ‘ The child has been long dead, 
and yet no feast has been given to the gods that they 
may make his little spirit glad in the shadowy land of 
Hades. This must not be neglected longer. Within 
three days a feast must be made, and we will hold 
games in his honor.’ 

“ Then he called his servants, and bade them go to 
the pastures on Mount Ida, and choose from all the 
herds that pastured there the fattest and handsomest, 
to be given as a prize to the winner in the games. 
And he proclaimed through all Ilios, that on the third 
day there would be a great feast in Troy, and games 
would be held in honor of the little babe who had died 
twenty years before. Now, when the servants came 
to Mount Ida, they chose a bull for which Paris had 
long cared, and which he loved more than any other. 
And he would not let the beast be driven from the 
pasture until it was agreed that he might go to the city 
with it and contend in the games for the prize. But 
CEnone, the river-nymph, wept and prayed him not 
to go. 


io8 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


“ ‘ Leave not the pleasant pasture-lands of Ida, even 
fora day,’ said she; “for my heart tells me that you 
will not return.’ 

“ ‘ Think not so, my fair one,’ said Paris. ‘ Did not 
Aphrodite promise that the most beautiful woman in 
the world shall be my wife ? And who is more beauti- 
ful than my own CEnone ? Dry now your tears ; for 
when I have won the prizes in the games I will come 
back to you, and never leave you again.’ 

“Then the grief of CEnone waxed still greater. ‘If 
you will go,’ she cried, ‘ then hear my warning ! 
Long years shall pass ere you shall come again to 
wooded Ida, and the hearts which now are young shall 
grow old and feeble by reason of much sorrow. Cruel 
war and many dire disasters shall overtake you, and 
death shall be nigh unto you ; and then CEnone, 
although long forgotten by you, will hasten to your 
side, to help and to heal and to forgive, that so the old 
love may live again. Farewell ! ’ 

“ But Paris kissed his wife, and hastened, light of 
heart, to Troy. How could it be otherwise but that, 
in the games which followed, the handsome young shep 
herd should carry off all the prizes ? 

“ ‘ Who are you ? ’ asked the king. 

“ ‘ My name is Paris,’ answered the shepherd, * and 
I feed the flocks and herds on wooded Ida.’ 

“ Then Hector, full of wrath because of his own fail- 
ure to win a prize, came forward to dispute with Paris. 

“‘Stand there, Hector,’ cried old Priam; ‘stand 


The Golden Apple . 109 

close to the young shepherd, and let us look at you ! ’ 
Then turning to the queen, he asked, ‘Did you ever 
see two so nearly alike ? The shepherd is fairer and 
of slighter build, it is true ; but they have the same 
eye, the same frown, the same smile, the same motion 
of the shoulders, the same walk. Ah, what if the 
young babe did not die after all ? ’ 

“ Then Priam’s daughter Cassandra, who has the gift 
of prophecy, cried out, ‘Oh, blind of eye and heart, 
that you cannot see in this young shepherd the child 
whom you sent to sleep the sleep of death on Ida’s 
wooded slopes ! ’ 

“And so it came about, that Paris was taken into his 
father’s house, and given the place of honor which was 
his by right. And he forgot CEnone his fair young 
wife, and left her to pine in loneliness among the 
woods and in the narrow dells of sunny Ida .’* 1 

By this time the fire had burned low upon the 
hearth, and Cheiron the master would fain have ended 
his talk. But Odysseus was anxious to hear more. • 

“To-morrow,” said he, “we must go back to Iolcos, 
for perchance the ships of Peleus may then be ready to 
sail. So tell us, I pray you, yet more about that 
strange wedding-feast in the cavern-halls of Pelion.” 

“There is little more to tell,” said the master. 
“After the feast, King Peleus went down with his 
bride into Phthia ; and there his Myrmidons, who had 

1 See Note 8 at the end of this volume. 


I IO 


A Story of the Golde7i Age. 


waited so long for his coming, rallied around him, 
ready to help him in any undertaking. And they 
marched upon Iolcos, and entered the gates, carrying 
all before them ; and they slew King Acastus, and set 
Peleus on his throne. Thus ended this hero’s days of 
exile ; and now for seven years he has ruled Iolcos and 
Phthia both wisely and well ; yet, though you have 
found him at this season of the year in Iolcos, he 
loves best his old home of Phthia, where dwell his 
Myrmidons.” 

“ Please tell me about his son, fair young Achilles, 
who is here in your hall,” said Odysseus. 

And Cheiron answered briefly by telling how the 
young lad’s mother, the sea-nymph Thetis, had longed 
to make her son immortal ; and how it was said that 
she each night threw him into the fire to purge away 
whatever mortal stains might cling to him ; and how 
each day she anointed him with ambrosia, and sang 
him to sleep with sweet lullabies of the sea. 

“ But one night,” added Cheiron, “ King Peleus hap- 
pened to see the babe lying in the fire ; and in his 
fright he cried out, and snatched him from the coals. 
Then Thetis sorrowfully gave up her plan ; and the 
boy was sent to me, that I might train him in all that 
goes to the making of a man. There are those who 
say that I feed the lad on the hearts of lions, and the 
marrow of bears and wild boars ; and those may be- 
lieve the story who wish to do so. But I have lived 
long enough to know that there are other and better 


The Golden Apple. 


1 1 1 


ways of training up heroes, and fitting them for the 
strife of battle.” 

And thus the long talk with Cheiron, the wise mas- 
ter, ended ; and Odysseus retired to his couch, and was 
soon dreaming of far-away Ithaca and of his anxious 
mother, who was even then hoping for his return. 

The next morning the lad and his tutor went down 
the mountain ; and, following the pathway which Jason 
had taken when he went to claim his birthright of 
Pelias, they came, in good time, back to Iolcos by the 
sea. There they found that a ship was just making 
ready to sail for Corinth ; and bidding a hasty farewell to 
King Peleus, and to bold Echion, who still tarried there, 
they embarked, and were soon well on their way. The 
voyage was a long and hard one ; but kind Athene 
favored them, and Poseidon gave them smooth waters 
and many pleasant days upon the sea. Nor were they 
delayed at Corinth ; for they found waiting there a 
ship, which Laertes had sent out on purpose to meet 
them, and bring them home. And so, before the 
autumn had closed, Odysseus, much wiser and stronger 
than he was when he departed, gazed with glad eyes 
once more upon the shores of sea-girt Ithaca. 


ADVENTURE IX. 


THE SWINEHERD. 

When Odysseus stepped ashore upon the sandy 
beach of Ithaca, the good people of the town, both 
young and old, had gathered there to welcome him ; 
and they sang a song of greeting like that with which 
they were wont to meet their returning heroes. He 
staid only a moment to speak with them. With winged 
feet he hastened to the hall where his queenly mother 
waited for his coming. She threw her arms about him, 
and in the fulness of her joy wept aloud ; and she kissed 
his head and his eyes and both his hands, and wel- 
comed him as one saved from death. 

“ Thou hast come at last, Odysseus,” she said. 
“ The light is not more sweet to me. I feared that I 
should never see thee more, when I heard that thou 
hadst gone from Parnassus to distant Pelion. Come 
now, and sit before me as of yore, and let me look into 
those eyes which have been so long time away.” 

And Laertes, too, folded the boy in his arms, and 
kissed him, and plied him with a thousand questions 
which he could not answer. Then, in the halls of the 


112 


The Swineherd. 


1 13 


king, a feast was made ready, and the day was given 
over to music and merry-making; and all the people 
joined in offering thanks to Pallas Athene, who had 
brought the wanderer safe home to his friends and his 
kindred. 

When the evening had come, and the guests had 
gone to their own homes, Odysseus sat upon a low 
stool at his mother’s feet ; while she asked him many 
questions about her aged sire Autolycus, and about the 
dear home of her girlhood on the farther side of Mount 
Parnassus. And he told her of all that she asked him, 
and of the wonderful things that he had seen and heard 
in far-away lands and seas. 

“ But were you not afraid that evil would befall you, 
and that your eyes would never more behold fair Ithaca ? ” 
asked his mother, tenderly stroking his yellow hair. 

“ Nightly I prayed to Pallas Athene,” answered the 
lad, “and she watched kindly over me every hour. 
Who would be afraid when shielded and led by so 
great a friend ? Then, too, good Phemius questioned 
the Pythian oracle about me ; and the answer was such 
as to make me sure of safety. It was this : — 

‘ To home and kindred he shall safe return ere long, 

With scars well-won, and greeted with triumphal song.’ ” 

“Well,” said Laertes, “the oracle doubtless spoke 
the truth. We know that you have returned to your 
home, and that you have been greeted with songs, but 
I fear you have yet to gain the scars.” 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


1 14 


“Not so, father,” answered Odysseus. And then he 
showed them the great white scar which the tusk of the 
wild boar had made upon his knee ; and he told them 
of the famous hunt in the woods of Parnassus, and of 
the days of pain and enforced quiet which he had 
afterward spent on an invalid’s couch. And all those 
who listened to his story were struck with the wisdom 
of his thoughts ; and they wondered at the choice 
beauty of the words which fell from his lips, soft and 
persuasive like the flakes of snow on a quiet day in 
winter. 

After this, many pleasant days came and passed. 
The simple-hearted folk of Ithaca went about their 
tasks as of yore, — some tending their flocks in the 
mountain pastures, some gathering the autumn fruits 
from the overladen trees, and some twirling the spindle 
or plying the loom in their humble homes. King 
Laertes himself worked early and late in his vineyards, 
or in his well-tilled orchard grounds ; and Odysseus was 
often with him, as busy as he, tending his own trees 
and vines. For, long time before, when he was but a 
little child, the boy had walked through these grounds 
with his father, and had asked the names of the trees. 
And Laertes had not only answered the prattler, but 
had given him a whole small orchard for his own : of 
pear-trees, thirteen ; of apple-trees, ten ; of fig-trees, 
forty ; and he promised to give him fifty rows of vines, 
each of which ripened at a different time, with all man- 
ner of clusters on their boughs. 


The Swineherd . 


”5 


Sometimes Odysseus went out with other boys of his 
age, to ramble among the hills and on the wooded 
mountain slopes. Sometimes they played at ball in the 
open field, or loitered around the flowing spring whence 
the people of the town drew water. This well had been 
digged and walled by Ithacus and Neritus, the first 
settlers of the island ; and close by it was a thicket 
of reeds and alders, growing green and rank from the 
boggy soil ; while, on the rock from beneath which the 
ice-cold water gushed, an altar had been built, where 
all wayfarers laid some offering for the nymphs. This 
was a lovely spot ; and in the heat of the day, the boys 
would often sit in the cool shade of the trees, and play 
a quiet game with pebbles, or talk about the noble 
deeds of the heroes. 

Once they wandered far over the hills to the sheltered 
woodland where the swine of Laertes were kept. There, 
near the rock called Corax, was the spring of Arethusa, 
around which grew many great oak-trees, yielding 
abundance of acorns. Here the slave Eumaeus lived in 
a humble lodge of his own building, and fed and tended 
his master’s swine, far from the homes of other men. 

When the swineherd saw Odysseus, and knew that 
he was the master’s son, he ran to welcome him and his 
comrades to his lowly home. He led them to the lodge, 
and took them in, and strewed fragrant leaves upon 
the floor, and stirred the blazing fire upon the hearth. 
Then he hastened to the sties where the fattest young 
pigs were penned. Two of these he killed and dressed ; 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


1 16 


and when he had cut them in pieces, he roasted the 
choicest parts on spits before the fire. Then he set 
the smoking food upon a table before Odysseus and his 
comrades, and sprinkled it all over with white barley- 
meal. After this, he mixed honey-sweet wine with 
water in a wooden bowl, and sat down to the feast with 
them. Right heartily did they eat and drink, and many 
were the pleasant jests that were passed among them. 
When they had finished, Odysseus said, — 

“Swineherd Eumaeus, you have fed us right nobly, 
and there is nothing more welcome to tired and hungry 
boys than plenty of well-seasoned food. Surely one 
who can serve so royally as you have done was not 
born a slave ? ” 

“Nor indeed was I,” answered Eumaeus. “In my 
childhood I was a prince, noble as yourself. But the 
Fates bring strange fortunes to some men, and strangely 
have I been tossed about in the world.” 

“Do tell us,” said Odysseus, “how this great change 
was made in your life. Was the goodly town in which 
your father and your lady-mother dwelt, laid waste by 
an enemy? Or did unfriendly men find you in the 
fields alone, and sell you to him who would pay the 
goodliest price ? ” 

“ Since you ask me for my story, young master,” said 
Eumaeus, “I will tell it you. But sit you here upon 
this couch of goat-skins while you listen, for I know 
that your long walk has wearied you. 

“Far out in the sea there is an island called Syria, 



THE SWINEHERD TELLING HIS STORY TO ODYSSEUS 








































































































. 
















































. • „ -■ 












i 























The Swineherd. 


1 17 


above which the sun turns in its course. It is not very 
thickly peopled, but it is rich in vineyards and wheat- 
fields, and in pastures where thousands of cattle graze. 
There no one ever goes hungry for lack of food, and 
sickness never comes ; but when men grow old, then 
silver-bowed Apollo, and Artemis his huntress sister, 
strike them with their noiseless arrows, and they cease 
to live. In that island stand two cities, fair and rich ; 
and over them both my father is sole lord and king. 
There, in his white halls where care never enters, 
my infancy was passed ; and never did I dream of 
the hard lot which the pitiless Fates had decreed 
for me. 

“ One day there came to our island some Phoenician 
merchants, shrewd seafaring men, intent on trade and 
profit. In their ship they brought countless trinkets 
to barter with our folk for corn and wine ; and they 
moored their vessel in the harbor close to the shore. 
In my father’s house there dwelt a Phoenician slave- 
woman, tall and fair, and skilled in needlework. And 
when the merchants knew that she spoke their lan- 
guage, they asked her who she was and from whence 
she came. 

“ * In Sidon I was born,’ she answered, * and Arybas 
my father was one of the wealthiest of Sidonian mer- 
chants. Once as I was walking on the shore, a band of 
Taphian sea-robbers seized me unawares, and carried 
me in their dark-hulled ship across the sea. They 
brought me to this far-distant island, and sold me, for 


n8 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


much gold, to the man who lives in yonder palace.’ 
And she pointed to my father’s lofty dwelling. 

“ Then the merchants asked her if she would return 
with them to Sidon, where she might again behold her 
father and mother, and the sweet home of her girlhood. 
And she consented, only asking that they pledge them- 
selves to take her safely home. 

“‘Now say no more,’ she said; ‘and should any of 
you meet me on the road or by the well, hold your 
tongues, and let no word be spoken between us. But 
when you have sold your goods, and have filled your 
ship with corn and wine, send some one to the house 
who shall tell me secretly. Then I will hie me to your 
swift-sailing vessel, bringing gold wherewith to pay my 
fare, and, if fortune favor, even more than gold. For I 
am nurse to the little son of my master, a cunning prat- 
tler whom I often take with me in my walks. I will 
bring him on board your ship, and when you have 
reached some rich foreign land you can sell him for a 
goodly price.’ 

“ And thus having settled upon a plan, the Phoeni- 
cian woman went back to my father’s halls ; and the 
merchants staid a whole year in our harbor, and filled 
their ship with grain. But when at last they were 
ready to sail, they sent a messenger to tell the woman. 
He came to our house with many trinkets, bracelets, 
and golden necklaces, which pleased the eyes of my lady- 
mother and her maidens. And while they were looking, 
and asking the price, he signed to my Phoenician nurse, 


The Swineherd . 


1 19 


and straightway gathered up his goods, and hastened 
back to his fellows. When the sun went down, the 
woman took my hand, and led me from the house as 
she had often done before. Thoughtlessly I followed 
her to the shore where the fast-sailing ship was moored. 
The Phoenicians took us both on board ; they hoisted 
the broad sail, and a brisk wind quickly carried us far 
away from my home and friends. On the seventh day, 
Artemis the archer-queen smote the woman with her 
silent arrows, and her eyes saw no more the sweet light 
of heaven. Then the crew cast her forth into the sea, 
to be food for fishes and the sea-calves ; and I was left 
alone and stricken with grief and fear. But the swift 
ship brought us ere long to Ithaca, and there those 
who had stolen me bartered me to Laertes for a 
goodly price. And that is why I am your father’s 
thrall, and dwell here lonely underneath these shel- 
tering oaks.” 1 

Such was the tale which the swineherd told Odysseus 
and his young companions as they sat together in the 
lodge. 

“I pity thee, Eumaeus,” said the lad. “Thy story is 
indeed a sad one ; and, could I do so, I would gladly 
send thee back to far-off Syria where thy mother sor- 
rows even yet for thee.” 

“ Alas ! ” answered the swineherd. “ There is no 
hope. No ship will ever sail through the unknown sea- 
ways which lead to my boyhood’s home. My life must 

1 See Note 9 at the end of this volume. 


120 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


be spent in this spot ; yet I am happy in knowing that 
my master is the kindest of men, and that I shall be well 
provided for. Even a slave may find enjoyment if his 
heart be right ; for it is the mind, and not the force of 
outward things, that makes us rich and free.” 


ADVENTURE X. 


THE SEA-ROBBERS OF MESSENE. 

Five years passed quietly by, and brought few 
changes to Ithaca. The flocks still grazed in their 
mountain pastures ; the orchard-trees still bent under 
their loads of ripening fruit ; the vines still yielded their 
treasures of purple and red. The simple-hearted island- 
ers arose each day with the coming of the dawn ; they 
went about their tasks with cheerfulness ; they sang, 
and danced, and ate their accustomed meals, and then 
with the coming of night they lay down to sleep : to 
them, all days were alike, and life was but one pleasant 
round of duties. But King Laertes, as he grew older, 
sought more and more the quiet of his farm and garden ; 
and, for the most part, he allowed his little kingdom 
to take care of itself, and his subjects to do as they 
pleased. 

And in these five years young Odysseus had become 
a man. He had grown not so much in stature as in 
wisdom, nor yet so much in size of limb and body as 
in strength of bone and muscle. There was nothing in 
his face or figure that could be called handsome, and 


121 


122 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


yet he was the pride of Ithaca. For, in all the deeds 
and feats most worthy of men, he was without a peer. 
In wrestling and leaping, in rowing and swimming, in 
shooting with the bow, and in handling the heavy spear, 
there was no one that could equal him. He was a very 
master of words ; and when his speech warmed into 
earnestness, the dullest hearer was spell-bound by his 
eloquence. Even to the Achaian mainland and among 
the islands of the sea, he was famed for his far-reach- 
ing shrewdness. Indeed, his craftiness oftentimes out- 
weighed his sense of honor ; for, in that early day, to 
outwit one’s fellows even by fraud was thought to be 
praiseworthy. 

One evening in summer, four strange ships, with long 
black hulls, sailed into the harbor at Ithaca, and were 
moored in the deep water close to the shore. They 
were found to be manned by crews of seafarers from 
the low-lying shores of Messene ; and their captain 
brought greetings from Orsilochus their king, and 
offered to barter silver and merchandise for Ithacan 
wool and long-horned sheep. Laertes welcomed the 
strangers warmly ; and as the night was near, he advised 
that early on the morrow they should bring their wares 
ashore, and allow his people to bargain for what they 
needed most. And soon darkness covered all the ways, 
and Ithaca was wrapped in slumber. 

When the gray dawn peeped into his chamber, and 
awakened him, the king arose, and looked out towards 
the harbor. Not one of the black-hulled ships could 


123 


The Sea-Robbers of Me s sene. 


he see. They had silently cast their moorings, and had 
stolen away through the darkness. While the king 
looked and wondered, an old shepherd with frightened 
face and gestures of alarm came running in breathless 
haste to the palace. In a few words he told what 
strange things had happened. By the light of the 
waning moon, the sea-rovers from Messene had sailed 
around to a little cove where the pastures slope down 
to the water’s edge. There they had landed, and with- 
out much ado had driven a whole flock of sheep aboard 
their ships, — three hundred long-wooled ewes and 
bleating lambs, the choicest of the fields. And they 
had carried away not only these, but the six sleepy 
shepherds whose duty it had been to guard them. 

An alarm was quickly sounded, and the news was 
passed from mouth to mouth until it was known to all. 
The bravest men of Ithaca hastened to the shore, where 
stood Odysseus and his father, ready to direct them. 
Their fleetest vessels, lying high upon the beach, were 
cleared ready to be launched. Five ships with vermil- 
ion prows were pushed into the waves ; and each was 
manned by a score of lusty rowers, and headed towards 
the open sea. The long oars dipped into the water, as 
if all were moved by a single hand ; and the vessels 
sped out upon their errand, like dogs of the chase intent 
upon a fleeing victim. 

The sky was clear. The waves danced merrily in 
the sunlight. The wind blew gently from the shore. 
The crews of the Ithacan ships bent to the oars like 


124 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


practised seamen ; but when they rounded the head- 
lands at the foot of the bay, and came out upon the 
open sea, they saw no trace of the pirate fleet, nor 
even a single sail upon the laughing face of the deep. 
Whether the men of Messene had pushed straight 
homeward with their plunder, or whether they had put 
into some other cove or inlet farther down the coast, 
no one could guess. All that their pursuers could do 
was to sail close along the shore, southward towards 
Cephallenia, peering behind every jutting headland, 
and into every sheltered nook, in hopes of coming upon 
them. 

Five days afterward, the red-prowed ships returned 
to Ithaca. Nothing had been seen of the sea-robbers : 
nothing had been heard of the stolen flocks. 

What was to be done ? The robbers were known to 
be men of Messene, the subjects of Orsilochus. It 
was no secret, that much of the wealth of Messene had 
been gotten by the plunder and pillage of foreign 
coasts ; but were the pirates of that country to be 
allowed thus to rob their near neighbors and kinsfolk ? 
Laertes called together a council of the chiefs and 
elders, and asked them what it was best to do. 

“We are a peaceful, home-loving people,” said some 
of the older men, “and it would neither be wise nor 
pleasant to entangle ourselves in a war with a strong 
king like Orsilochus. The loss of three hundred sheep 
is not much where there are so many, and it is not 
likely that the sea-robbers will ever trouble us again. 


The Sea-Robbers of Me s sene. 


125 


Let us go quietly back to our fields and homes, and 
leave well enough alone.” 

But the young men would not listen to a plan so 
tame and spiritless. They were eager, if they could 
not recover what was their own, to take at least what 
was of equal value from the Messenians. It would be 
easy, they said, for a few stanch ships with well-chosen 
crews to cross the sea-ways, and land by night upon the 
rich coast of Messene ; there they could fill the roomy 
holds of their vessels with fruit and grain ; and before 
any one could hinder, they would sail safely back to 
Ithaca laden with wealth far greater than three hundred 
sheep. 

Then Odysseus, though a mere youth among bearded 
men, stood up before them, and said, — 

“My good friends, I like neither the one plan nor 
the other. It is but the part of a slave to suffer wrong 
without striking back. It is but the part of a coward 
to strike in the dark, as if fearing the enemy’s face. 
Why not send boldly to Messene, and demand either 
the stolen sheep, or a fair price for them ? I myself 
will undertake the business, and I promise you that 
I will bring back to Ithaca gifts and goods worth twice 
as much as the flock that has been taken.” 

The elders listened with favor to the young man’s 
words ; and, after further talk, it was settled that he 
should go forthwith across the sea to claim the debt 
which was due from the people of Messene. 

The goodliest ship of all the Ithacan galleys was 


126 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


made ready for Odysseus. The needed stores of food 
and drink were brought on board, and placed in the 
vessel’s hold. The young hero, with his friend and 
tutor Phemius, climbed over the vessel’s side, and sat 
down in the prow. The long-haired seamen cast loose 
the moorings ; they plied their oars, and the swift ship 
was soon far out upon the waters. A steady north 
wind filled the sail, and the vessel sped swiftly on her 
way, cleaving the white foam with her keel. By and 
by the sun went down, and night wrapped the world 
in her sober mantle ; but the ship still held its course, 
being guided by the moon’s pale light, and the steadfast 
star of the north. 

The next day they sailed within sight of the low- 
lying coast of Elis, which stretched northward and 
southward farther than their eyes could reach. Yet 
they turned not to the shore, but sailed straight on ; 
for Odysseus, advised by Pallas Athene, wished first 
to visit Pylos, where wise old Nestor ruled with his 
father, the ancient Neleus. This Neleus was the uncle 
of Jason, chief of the Argonauts, and had been driven 
from Iolcos by Pelias the usurper. Long time had he 
wandered, an exile in strange lands, until Aphareus of 
Arene gave him leave to build a city on the sandy 
plain close by the sea. There he had reared a noble 
palace ; and there he still dwelt, having outlived three 
generations of men. But he had given up his king- 
dom, many years before, to his son Nestor, himself a 
sage old man. 


The Sea-Robbers of Messene. 


127 


It was not until late on the third day that the voya- 
gers turned their ship’s prow into the harbor of Pylos. 
It touched the shore, and Odysseus with his tutor 
sprang out upon the sands. They found the people 
of the city offering sacrifices there to Poseidon, ruler of 
the deep. Upon nine long seats they were sitting, five 
hundred or more on each seat ; and the priest stood up 
before them, pouring out libations and offering sacri- 
fices. Nine coal-black heifers he offered to Poseidon. 

King Nestor sat upon a lofty seat while the elders of 
the city stood around him, or plied their several duties 
at the feast. Some of them were busy cutting choice 
bits of flesh from the slaughtered beeves ; others fixed 
these bits upon spits, and roasted them over heaps of 
glowing coals ; and still others handed the smoking 
food to the waiting people who sat hungry in their 
places. When Nestor saw Odysseus and the bard, two 
strangers, standing upon the shore, he arose and went 
down to meet them. He gave to each a hand, and 
leading them to the feast he seated them upon soft 
skins spread on piles of yielding sand. Then he 
brought to them, in his own hands, choicest pieces of 
well-cooked and well-flavored food ; and when they had 
eaten as much as they liked, he poured rich wine into 
a golden goblet, and as he offered it first to the noble 
bard, he said, “ Right welcome are you, stranger, who- 
ever you may be, to this our midsummer festival. I 
give this golden goblet to you first, you being the older 
man, that you may pray as beseemeth you to great 


123 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


Poseidon. When you have made your prayer, hand 
then the cup to the young man who is with you, that 
he too may pour out a libation ; for all men have need 
to pray.” 

Then the bard took the goblet, and pouring out a 
rich libation, lifted up his eyes and prayed, “Great 
Poseidon, thou who dost hold the earth in thy strong 
arms, hear now the prayer of thy suppliant. Prolong 
still the life of our aged host, and add to Nestor with 
each circling year new honors and greater wealth. To 
the folk of Pylos give rich contentment and that peace 
which is the befitting prize of those who are mindful 
of life’s varied duties. And lastly, grant that this 
young man may find that which he seeks, and then 
return rejoicing to his home and friends.” 

When he had thus spoken, he gave the goblet to 
Odysseus, and he in like manner poured out libations, 
and prayed to great Poseidon. 

Then said Nestor as he took again the goblet, 
“ Strangers, you do wisely thus to offer prayers to the 
gods ; for they are far above us in virtue, strength, 
and honor. When men have failed to do aright, and 
have broken Heaven’s just laws, they may still, by 
humble vows and supplications, turn aside from evil- 
doing, and soften the wrath of the ever-living powers.” 

“Yes, truly,” answered Phemius, “by prayers we do 
honor both ourselves and those to whom we pray. 
There is an ancient saying, which no doubt you oft have 
heard, that prayers are the feeble-sighted daughters of 


The Sea-Robbers of Messene . 


129 


Father Zeus, and wrinkled and lame they follow in mis- 
fortune’s track. But misfortune, strong and swift, out- 
runs them often, and brings distress upon the sons of 
men ; then these blessed prayers, following after, kindly 
heal the hurts and bind up the aching wounds which 
have been made. And for this reason the man who is 
wont to pray feels less the strokes of fortune than does 
he who lives forgetful of the gods.” 1 

The feast being soon ended, Nestor turned again to 
the strangers, and said, “ Behold now, the day is well- 
nigh gone, and all have paid their vows to the ever- 
living gods. The time has come when we may ask our 
stranger-guests their names and errand. Who are you 
who come thus unheralded to the sandy shores of 
Pylos ? Is your visit one of peace, and shall we wel- 
come you as friends ? Or do you come as spies, to 
find out what there may be of wealth or of weakness 
in our city ? ” 

Odysseus answered : “ O noble Nestor, we will speak 
the truth, and hide nothing from you. I am Odysseus 
of Ithaca ; my father is King Laertes, who was once 
your comrade when you sailed on the Argo to golden 
Colchis. Ten days ago, there came to our island sea- 
faring men from Messene, whom we welcomed as friends 
and neighbors. But under cover of the night they 
landed on our shores ; they seized three hundred of 
our long-wooled sheep, together with the shepherds, 
and bore them across the sea to some one of the pirate 


1 See Note 10 at the end of this volume. 


130 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


harbors of Messene. I now am on my way to King 
Orsilochus, to bid him send back the stolen flock ; and 
if he will not hearken to my words, then I shall either 
gain by guile or take by force double the value of the 
sheep. But I have come first to Pylos, that you, my 
father’s old-time friend, might know my errand, and, 
if need be, lend me your aid.” 

“You have spoken well,” answered Nestor ; “and for 
your father’s sake you are thrice welcome to the lofty 
halls of Pylos. Abide with me for one night, and in 
the morning I will give you a car and steeds, and a 
trustworthy guide, to take you by the straightest road 
to Pherae, where the king of Messene dwells. Orsilo- 
chus must learn from me, that, though his pirate-crews 
may plunder foreign shores, they must not molest the 
flocks and goods of our home-staying neighbors.” 

Having thus spoken, he led the way to the fair palace, 
which his father Neleus erstwhile had built. There 
they found that aged chieftain sitting in the great hall, 
upon a soft couch spread with purple coverings. His 
hair and his long beard were white as the driven snow, 
and his hands trembled from very feebleness, for he 
was exceeding old. He spoke kindly to Odysseus, and 
asked many questions about his father Laertes, and his 
home in Ithaca ; but he seemed most pleased when the 
young man told him of his visit, when a boy, to Iolcos 
and Mount Pelion. For Iolcos had been the home of 
Neleus in his youth; and he it was who had helped 
Pelias drive Aison from the kingdom which was his by 


The Sea-Robbers of Messene. 131 

right. But Nemesis had followed him, and paid him for 
the deed. 

Soon the shades of night began to darken the fair 
hall, and the chiefs and elders went each one to his 
own house. But Nestor led Odysseus and the bard to 
an upper chamber, where a fair, soft couch was spread 
upon a jointed bedstead. There he left them for the 
night, and there they soon found rest in soothing 
slumber. 

As soon as the light of day began to streak the east- 
ern sky, the aged Neleus, as was his wont, arose from 
his couch, and, leaning on the arm of Nestor, went 
feebly out, and took his seat upon a smooth white stone 
before the palace gate. Then every one who had aught 
of grievance, or had suffered any wrong, came and told 
his story, and made his plea ; and the old hero weighed 
the matter with an even hand, and gave judgment for 
the right. 

“ What shall be done to aid the son of Laertes, that 
so his journey into Messene shall prosper ?” asked 
Nestor. “Thou knowest that King Orsilochus has 
ever been our friend and ally ; yet shall we allow his 
lawless men thus to despoil our neighbors and old-time 
comrades ? ” 

“ Send to Pherae, with the young man, a trusty mes- 
senger who shall speak for him,” answered old Neleus. 
“ Send them both in thy own chariot, and ask Orsilo- 
chus, in the name of a friend, to deal justly with the 
son of Laertes.” 


132 


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By this time Odysseus and the bard had awakened 
from their slumber. They arose ; and when they had 
bathed, and had been anointed with soft oil, they clothed 
themselves in robes of noble texture, and went down 
into the banquet-hall. There they found King Nestor 
waiting ; and they sat down with him at the table, and 
willing servants waited on them, bringing choice food 
and pouring sweet wine into golden goblets. 

When the meal was finished, the bard bade his host 
farewell ; and, praying that the gods would speed 
Odysseus on his errand, he went down to the red- 
prowed ship which was waiting by the shore. And as 
soon as he stepped on board, the sailors loosed the 
moorings, and set the sail ; and a brisk wind bore them 
swiftly back towards Ithaca. 

But Nestor spoke to the young men about him, 
“ Bring out my finest horses, and yoke them forth- 
with to my lightest car. They shall carry Odysseus on 
his journey across the plain to Pherae ; and my son 
Antilochus shall bear him company, and be my messen- 
ger to the Messenian king.” 

Soon the car was ready. The young men took their 
places ; and Antilochus touching the restive horses 
with his whip, they sped across the dusty plain. It 
was a rough and tiresome journey, along unbroken 
ways, and roads scarcely marked with tracks of wheels 
or horses’ hoofs ; and night had begun to fall ere they 
came to the river Nedon and the high walls of Pherae 
where dwelt Orsiloehus, the king of Messene. 







ALPHEUS AND ARETHUSA 
































f 


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0 


ADVENTURE XI. 


THE BOW OF EURYTUS. 

In Arcadia there is a little mountain stream called 
Alpheus. It flows through woods and meadows and 
among the hills for many miles, and then it sinks 
beneath the rocks. Farther down the valley it rises 
again, and dancing and sparkling, as if in happy chase 
of something, it hurries onward towards the plain ; but 
soon it hides itself a second time in underground cav- 
erns, making its way through rocky tunnels where the 
light of day has never been. Then at last it gushes 
once more from its prison chambers ; and, flowing 
thence with many windings through the fields of Elis, 
it empties its waters into the sea. 

Of this strange river a strange tale is told, and this 
is what Antilochus related to Odysseus as they rode 
across the plain towards Pherae : — 

“Years ago there was no river Alpheus ; the channel 
through which it flows had not then been hollowed out, 
and rank grass and tall bending reeds grew thick where 
now its waters sparkle brightest. It was then that a 

133 


134 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


huntsman, bearing the name of Alpheus, ranged through 
the woods, and chased the wild deer among the glades 
and glens of sweet Arcadia. Far away by the lonely 
sea dwelt Telegona, his fair young wife, and his lovely 
babe Orsilochus ; but dearer than home or wife or babe 
to Alpheus, was the free life of the huntsman among 
the mountain solitudes. For he loved the woods and 
the blue sky and the singing birds, and the frail flowers 
upon the hillside ; and he longed to live among them 
always, where his ears could listen to their music, and 
his eyes look upon their beauty. 

“ ‘ O Artemis, huntress-queen ! * he cried, ‘ I ask but 
one boon of thee. Let me ramble forever among these 
happy scenes ! ’ 

“And Artemis heard him, and answered his prayer. 
For, as he spoke, a bright vision passed before him. A 
sweet-faced maiden went tripping down the valley, cull- 
ing the choicest flowers, and singing of hope and joy 
and the blessedness of a life pure and true. It was 
Arethusa, the Arcadian nymph, by some supposed to 
be a daughter of old Nereus, the elder of the sea. Then 
Alpheus heard no more the songs of the birds, or the 
music of the breeze ; he saw no longer the blue sky 
above him, or the nodding flowers at his feet : he was 
blind and deaf to all the world, save only the beautiful 
nymph. Arethusa was the world to him. He reached 
out his arms to catch her ; but, swifter than a frightened 
deer, she fled down the valley, through deep ravines 
and grassy glades and rocky caverns underneath the 


The Bow of Eurytus. 


135 


hills, and out into the grassy meadows, and across the 
plains of Elis, to the sounding sea. And Alpheus fol- 
lowed, forgetful of every thing but the fleeing vision. 
When, at length, he reached the sea, he looked back ; 
and, lo ! he was no longer a huntsman, but a river doomed 
to meander forever among the scenes, for love of which 
he had forgotten his wife and his babe and the duties 
of life. It was thus that Artemis answered his prayer. 

“And men say that Arethusa the nymph was after- 
wards changed into a fountain ; and that to this day, in 
the far-off island of Ortygia, that fountain gushes from 
the rocks in an unfailing, crystal stream. But Orsilo- 
chus, the babe forgotten by his father, grew to man- 
hood, and in course of time became the king of Pherae 
and the seafaring people of Messene.” 

When Odysseus and his companion reached Pherae, 
the sun had set, and the gates of the palace were closed. 
But the porter sent a messenger into the hall where 
King Orsilochus was sitting at the evening meal, who 
said, “O king, the car of Nestor, our worthy neighbor, 
stands outside the gate ; and in the car are two young 
men, richly clothed like princes, and bearing themselves 
in a most princely manner.” 

Forthwith the king arose, and went out to the gate, 
and welcomed the young men to his city and his high- 
built halls. And he took them by the hand, and led 
them into the feast-chamber where the chiefs of Pherae 
and Messene already sat at meat. He put the spears 


136 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


which they bore, in a spear-stand, where were other 
goodly weapons leaning against the wall. Then he 
seated them on chairs of cunning workmanship, be- 
neath which were linen rugs of many colors ; and he 
gave to each an oaken footstool for his feet. Then a 
maid poured water into a basin of silver, that they 
might wash their hands ; and she drew a polished table 
near them, on which another maid placed white loaves 
of bread, and many dainties well-pleasing to the taste of 
tired travellers. And the carver brought divers tempt- 
ing dishes of roasted meats ; and a herald poured red 
wine into golden bowls, and set them within easy reach. 

When they had eaten, and had forgotten their hunger 
and thirst and weariness, an old blind bard came into 
the hall ; and as he sat in a high seat leaning against a 
pillar, he took his harp in his hand, and, touching it 
with his deft fingers, sang sweet songs of the gods and 
the heroes and famous men. Not until he had finished 
his music, and laid aside his harp, did Orsilochus 
venture to speak of any thing that might disturb the 
pleasure of his guests. Then with well-chosen words, 
he asked them their names and their errand. 

“Our fathers,” answered Odysseus, “are Nestor and 
Laertes, well known among the heroes who sailed with 
Jason to the golden strand of Colchis ; and the errand 
upon which we come is one of right and justice.” 

And then he told the king how the crews of the 
Messenian ships had landed in Ithaca, and carried away 
his father’s choicest flock. Orsilochus listened kindly ; 


The Bow of Eurytus. 


*37 


and when Odysseus had ended, he said, “ Think no 
more of this troublesome matter, for I will see that it 
is righted at once. The men who dared thus to wrong 
your father shall restore fourfold the value of the stolen 
flocks, and shall humbly beg the pardon of Laertes, as 
well as of myself. I have spoken, and it shall be done ; 
but you must tarry a while with me in Pherae, and be 
my honored guest.” 

Thus Odysseus brought to a happy end the quest 
upon which he had come to Messene and the high- 
walled town of Pherae. And he tarried many days in 
the pleasant halls of the king, and was held in higher 
honor than all the other guests. But Antilochus, on 
the second morning, mounted again his father’s chariot, 
and journeyed onward into Laconia : why he went 
thither, and did not return to Pylos, Odysseus was soon 
to learn. 

One evening there came to Pherae a lordly stranger, 
bringing with him a train of well-armed men and bear- 
ing a handsome present for Orsilochus. He was very 
tall and handsome ; he stood erect as a mountain pine, 
and his eyes flashed keen and sharp as those of an 
eagle; but his long white hair and frosted beard be- 
tokened a man of many years, and his furrowed brow 
showed plainly that he had not lived free from care. 

“ I am Iphitus of CEchalia,” he said, “ and I am 
journeying to Lacedaemon where great Tyndareus 
rules.” 

When Odysseus heard the name of Iphitus, he 


138 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


remembered it as that of a dear friend of whom his 
father had often spoken ; and he asked, — 

“Are you that Iphitus who sailed with Jason to 
golden Colchis ? And do you remember among your 
comrades, one Laertes of Ithaca ? ” 

“There is but one Iphitus,” was the answer, “and I 
am he. Never can I forget the noble-hearted Laertes 
of Ithaca; for, on board the Argo, he was my mess- 
mate, my bedfellow, my friend, my sworn brother. 
There is no man whom I love more dearly. Would 
that I could see him, or even know that he still lives ! ” 
When he learned that Odysseus was the son of his 
old-time friend, he was overjoyed ; and he took him 
by the hand, and wept for very gladness. Then he 
asked the young man *a thousand questions about his 
father and his mother, and his father’s little kingdom 
of Ithaca. And Odysseus answered him truly ; for his 
heart was filled with love for the noble old hero, and he 
felt justly proud of his friendship. And after this, so 
long as they staid at Pherae, the young man and the old 
were constantly together. 

One day, as they were walking alone outside of the 
city walls, Iphitus said, “Do you see this noble bow 
which I carry, and which I always keep within easy 
reach ? ” 

“It would be hard not to see it,” answered Odysseus, 
smiling ; “ for where you are, there also is the bow. I 
have often wondered why you guard it with so great 
care.” 


The Bow of Eurytus . 


139 


“It is the bow of my father Eurytus,” answered 
the hero, “and, next to Apollo’s silver weapon, it is the 
most wonderful ever made. My father dwelt in CEcha- 
lia, and was skilled in archery above all other men ; 
and the sons of the heroes came to him to learn how 
to shoot the silent arrow with most deadly aim. Even 
Heracles, the mightiest of earth-dwellers, was taught 
by him ; but Heracles requited him unkindly. 

“ In my father’s halls, close by the shore of the east- 
ern sea, there were many bright treasures and precious 
gems and rarest works of art. But more beautiful than 
any of these, and more precious to my father’s heart 
than any glittering jewel, was our only sister, the lovely 
Iole. And when Heracles went out from the land of 
his birth to toil and do the bidding of false Eurystheus, 
he tarried for a day in my father’s halls. There he saw 
Iole, the blue-eyed maiden, and his great strong heart 
was taken captive by her gentle will ; but the stern words 
of Eurystheus fell upon his ears, and bade him go forth 
at once to the labors which had been allotted him. He 
went ; for he had vowed, long time before, always to 
obey the calls of duty. And Iole grieved for him in 
secret ; yet every day she grew wiser and more beauti- 
ful, and every day the tendrils of her love were twined 
more and more closely about my father’s heart. 

“Heracles went out to do the thankless tasks which 
his master Eurystheus had bidden him do. In the 
swamps of Lerna, he slew the nine-headed Hydra, 
and dipped his arrows in its poisonous blood. In the 


140 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


forests of Arcadia, he caught the brazen-footed stag 
sacred to Artemis. In the snowy glens of Eryman- 
thus, he hunted the fierce wild boar which had long 
been the terror of men ; and, having caught him in a 
net, he carried him to Mycenae. In Elis he cleansed 
the stables of Augeas, turning the waters of the river 
Alpheus into the stalls of his oxen. In the marshes of 
Stymphalus, he put to flight the loathsome Harpies, 
and rested not from following them until they were 
outside the borders of Hellas. In the sunset land of 
the Hesperides, he plucked the golden apples which 
hung ripe in the gardens of Here ; and he slew the fiery 
dragon that kept watch and ward around them. And, 
lastly, he went down into the dark kingdom of Hades, 
and brought thence the mighty hound Cerberus, carry- 
ing him in his strong arms into the very presence of 
Eurystheus. All these deeds, and many more, did Hera- 
cles, because they were tasks set for him by his mas- 
ter ; but other things, even mightier than they, did he 
do because of his love for suffering men. 1 At length, 
when the days of his servitude to Eurystheus were 
ended, he came again to Hellas, and dwelt a long time 
in Calydon with his old-time friend Oineus.” 

When Iphitus had thus spoken, he was silent for a 
time ; and Odysseus, seeing that he was busy with his 
own thoughts, asked him no questions. Then, as if 
talking in a dream, he said, — 

“ Do you see this bow, — the bow of my father Eury- 

1 See Note n at the end of this volume. 


The Bow of Eurytus. 1 4 1 

tus ? Much grief has it brought upon our house ; and 
yet it was not the bow, but my father’s overweening 
pride, that wrought the mischief, and caused me to go 
sorrowing through life. Shall I finish my story by tell- 
ing you how it all ended ? ” 

“Tell me all,” answered Odysseus. 

“ My father Eurytus, as I have said, was the king of 
archers ; for no man could draw an arrow with so un- 
erring aim as he, and no man could send it straight to 
the mark with a more deadly force. Every thought 
of his waking hours was upon his bow, and he aspired 
to excel even the archery of Artemis and Apollo. At 
length he sent a challenge into every city of Hellas : 
‘ Whosoever will excel Eurytus in shooting with the bow 
and arrows , let him come to CEchalia , and try his skill. 
The prize to be given to him who succeeds is Iole , the fair 
daughter of Eurytus .’ 

“Then there came to the contest, great numbers of 
young men, the pride of Hellas. But when they saw 
this wonderful bow of Eurytus, and tried its strength, 
their hearts sank within them ; and when they aimed 
their shafts at the target, they shot far wide of the mark, 
and my father sent them home ashamed and without 
the prize. 

“ ‘ My dearest Iole,’ he would often say, ‘ I am not 
afraid of losing you, for there lives no man who knows 
the bow as well as I.’ 

“ But by and by great Heracles heard of my father’s 
boasts, and of the prize which he had offered. 


142 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


“ ‘ I will go down to CEchalia,’ said he, ‘and I will win 
the fair Iole for my bride.’ 

“ And when he came, my father remembered how he 
had taught him archery in his youth*; and he felt that 
in his old pupil he had at last found a peer. Yet he 
would not cease his boasting. ‘ If the silver-bowed 
Apollo should come to try his skill, I would not fear to 
contend even with him.’ 

“ Then the target was set up, so far away that it 
seemed as if one might as well shoot at the sun. 

“‘Now, my good bow,’ said my father, ‘thou hast 
never failed me : do thou serve me better to-day than 
ever before ! ’ 

“He drew the strong cord back, bending the bow to 
its utmost tension ; and then the swift arrow leaped 
from its place, and sped like a beam of light straight 
towards the mark. But, before it reached its goal, 
the strength which my father’s arm had imparted to it 
began to fail ; it wavered in the air, its point turned 
downward, and it struck the ground at the foot of the 
target. 

“ Then Heracles took up his bow, and carelessly aimed 
a shaft at the distant mark. Like the lightning which 
Zeus hurls from the high clouds straight down upon the 
head of some lordly oak, so flashed the unfailing arrow 
through the intervening space, piercing the very centre 
of the target. 

“‘Lo, now, Eurytus, my old-time friend,’ said Hera- 
cles, ‘ thou seest that I have won the victory over thee. 


The Bow of Eurytus . 


143 


Where now is the prize, even the lovely Iole, that was 
promised to him who could shoot better than thou ? ’ 

“ But my father’s heart sank within him, and shame 
and grief took mighty hold of him. And he sent Iole 
away in a swift-sailing ship, to the farther shores of the 
sea, and would not give her to Heracles as he had 
promised. Then the great hero turned him about in 
anger, and went back to his home in Calydon, threat- 
ening vengeance upon the house of Eurytus. I be- 
sought my father that he would remember his word, 
and would call Iole home again, and would send her to 
Heracles to be his bride. But he would not hearken, 
for the great sorrow which weighed upon him. He 
placed his matchless bow in my hands, and bade me 
keep it until I should find a young hero worthy to 
bear it. 

“‘It has served me well,’ he said, ‘but I shall never 
need it more.’ Then he bowed his head upon his 
hands, and when I looked again the life had gone from 
him. Some men say that Apollo, to punish him for his 
boasting, slew him with one of his silent arrows ; others 
say that Heracles smote him because he refused to give 
to the victor the promised prize, even fair Iole, the idol 
of his heart. But I know that it was grief and shame, 
and neither Apollo nor Heracles, that brought death 
upon him. 

“ As to Heracles, he dwelt a long time in Calydon, 
where he wooed and won the princess Deianeira, the 
daughter of old Oineus ; but the memory of Iole, as she 


144 


A Story oy the Golden Age . 


had been to him in the bright days of his youth, was 
never blotted from his mind. And the people of 
Calydon loved him, because, with all his greatness 
and his strength, he was the friend and helper of the 
weak and needy. But one day, at a feast, he killed by 
accident a little boy in the palace of Oineus, named 
Eunomos ; and his heart was filled with grief, and he 
took his wife Deianeira, and, leaving Calydon, he jour- 
neyed aimlessly about until he came to Trachis in 
Thessaly. There he built him a home, but his restless 
spirit would give him no peace ; and so, leaving Deia- 
neira in Trachis, he came back towards Argolis by way 
of the sea. Three moons ago, I met him in Tiryns. 
He greeted me as a dear old friend, and kindly offered 
to help me in the undertaking which I had then on 
foot ; for robbers had driven from my pastures twelve 
brood mares, the finest in all Hellas, and I was search- 
ing for them. 

“‘Go you with your men into Messene,’ said he, 
‘ for doubtless you will find that which you seek among 
the lawless men who own Orsilochus as king. If you 
find them not, come again to Tiryns, and I will aid 
you in further search, and will have them restored to 
you, even though Hermes, or great Autolycus, be the 
thief.’ 

“ So I left him, and came hither to Messene, and 
to the high-walled towers of Pherae ; and thus you 
know my errand which I have kept hidden from Orsilo- 
chus. I have found no traces of the stolen mares ; and 


The Bow of Eurytus. 


H5 

so to-morrow I shall return to Argolis and Tiryns 
where the great hero waits for me.” 

Much more would godlike Iphitus have spoken ; but 
now the sun had set, and the two friends hastened back 
to the palace of Orsilochus. 

“Never have I met a man whose friendship I prized 
more highly than thine,” said Odysseus, as they crossed 
the court-yard, and each was about to retire to his 
chamber. “ I pray that thou wilt take this sharp 
sword, which was my father’s, and this mighty spear, 
as tokens of the beginnings of a loving friendship.” 
And the young man put the noble weapons into the 
old hero’s hands. 

“ And do thou take in return an equal present,” said 
Iphitus. “ Here is the matchless bow of Eurytus my 
father ; it shall be thine, and shall be to thee a worthy 
token of the love which I bear towards thee.” 

Odysseus took the bow. It was a bow of marvellous 
beauty, and its strength was so great that no man, save 
its proud new owner, could string it. It was indeed 
a matchless gift, and a treasure to be prized. 


ADVENTURE XII. 


THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN 
THE WORLD. 

Very early on the following day, Iphitus bade Orsilo- 
chus farewell, and started on his journey back towards 
Tiryns ; and Odysseus, to the surprise of all, went with 
him, riding in the same chariot. 

“ I know that you want to go into Laconia,” Iphitus 
had said. “Why not go now? For I and my brave 
men will convoy you safely as far as Lacedaemon ; and 
when there, I will commend you to my old comrades, 
Castor and Polydeuces, who dwell in the palace of their 
father, King Tyndareus.” 

And Odysseus had gladly consented ; for, although 
his host had pressed him hard to stay longer, he was 
very anxious for many reasons to visit Lacedaemon. 

For two days the company travelled slowly eastward. 
They crossed the mountain land which lies between 
Messene and Laconia, and came to the plain, rich with 
wheat-fields, which lay beyond. And now the way was 
easier, and the road led straight towards Lacedaemon. 

At noon on the second day, they rested upon the 

146 


The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 147 


banks of a little stream ; and, as the sun was hot, they 
sat a long time in the pleasant shade of some trees 
which grew not far from the roadside. Some distance 
down the valley they caught glimpses of the high towers 
of the city ; and now and then they heard the sound of 
busy workers within the walls, or the shouts of the 
toilers in the neighboring fields. A ride of only a few 
minutes would bring them to the gates of Lacedaemon. 

While they were thus waiting and resting, an old 
minstrel, who had come out of the city, joined them 
by the roadside, and began to entertain them. At first 
he played sweetly upon his lyre, and sang songs, new 
and old, which he thought would be pleasing to his 
listeners. Then he told them stories of the times, now 
long past, when yet men lived in peaceful innocence, 
unbeset with eating cares. 

“And now,” he said, “since you are about to enter 
Lacedaemon, and will spend the night within the kingly 
halls of great Tyndareus, you must needs hear of the 
beauty and the courage and the wealth for which this 
city is far famed among all the states of Hellas. The 
riches of which we boast cannot be measured like gold 
and precious stones ; our wealth lies in the courage and 
true-heartedness of our men, and in the beauty and de- 
votedness of our women.” 

And then he told them of the four wonderful chil- 
dren whom King Tyndareus and his wife Leda had 
reared in the pleasant halls of Lacedaemon, — Castor 
and Polydeuces, the devoted brothers ; and the sisters, 


1 48 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


proud Clytemirestra, and Helen the beautiful. He told 
how Castor and Polydeuces were famed among all the 
heroes of Greece ; how they had sailed with Jason on 
the Argo ; how they had hunted the wild boar in the 
woods of Calydon ; and how they had fought under the 
banner of Peleus when he stormed the town of Iolcos, 
and drove the false Acastus from his kingdom. He 
told how Helen, while yet a mere child, had been stolen 
from her home and her parents, and carried by Theseus 
of Athens to far-distant Attica ; and how her brothers 
Castor and Polydeuces had rescued her, and brought 
her back to her loving friends in Lacedaemon. He told 
how the two brothers excelled in all the arts of war, 
and in feats of courage and skill ; how Castor was re- 
nowned at home and abroad as a tamer of horses, and 
how Polydeuces was without a peer as a boxer and as 
a skilful wielder of the sword. And he told how the 
beauty of Helen had brought hosts of suitors from 
every quarter of the world ; and how her father, old 
Tyndareus, was all the time beset with courtiers, 
princes, and heroes, the noblest of the earth, — all 
beseeching him for the hand of the matchless fair 
one. 

No one knows how long the old man would have 
kept on talking, had not Iphitus bade him cease. “ We 
have heard already, a thousand times, the tales that 
you tell us,” he said. “ Waste no more time with vain 
words which are on the tongue of every news-monger 
in Argolis ; but make haste back to the city, and say 


The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 149 


to Castor and Polydeuces that Iphitus, who erstwhile 
was their comrade on the Argo, waits outside the 
gates of Lacedaemon.” 

The minstrel bowed, and said, “ It is not for me to 
act the part of a herald for a stranger. But do you 
send one of your young men into the city, and I will 
gladly go with him into the broad palace of the king, 
where he may announce your coming.” 

Then Iphitus called to one of the young men in his 
company, and bade him go before them to the palace, 
to herald their coming ; and the old minstrel went with 
him. 

Now when the sun was beginning to sink behind the 
heights of lofty Taygetes, the company arose from their 
resting-place by the roadside, and began to move slowly 
towards the city. At the same time, two horsemen 
came out through the gate, and rode rapidly up the 
valley to meet them. Iphitus waved his long-plumed 
helmet in the air, and shouted aloud. “ There they 
come,” he cried, — “the twin heroes! as noble and as 
handsome, and seemingly as young, as when we sailed 
together on the Argo.” 

It seemed but a moment until the horsemen ap- 
proached and drew rein before them. They were tall 
and comely youths, exceedingly fair, and so alike that 
no man could tell which one was Castor or which Poly- 
deuces. Their armor was of gold, and glowed in the 
light of the setting sun like watch-fires on the moun- 
tain-tops. Their steeds were white as snow, with long 


150 A Story of the Golden Age. 

manes that glimmered and shone like the silvery beams 
of the moon on a still summer’s evening. 

“All hail, our old-time comrade ! ” they cried. “Wel- 
come to the halls of Lacedaemon ! We bid you welcome 
in the name of our aged father, King Tyndareus.” 

Then they turned, and led the way to the lofty palace 
gates. 

As Odysseus and his aged friend dismounted from 
their car, a score of ready squires came out to serve 
them. Some loosed the horses from the yoke, and led 
them to the stables, and fed them plentifully with oats 
and white-barley grains ; others tilted the car against 
the wall of the outer court, so that no careless passer-by 
would run against or injure it; and still others carried 
the arms of the heroes into the spacious hall, and leaned 
them with care against the grooved columns. 

Then Castor and Polydeuces, the glorious twins, led 
the heroes into the broad hall of King Tyndareus. 
Odysseus gazed about him with wondering eyes, for he 
had never seen so great magnificence. Walls of pol- 
ished marble ran this way and that from the brazen 
threshold ; the doors were of carved oak inlaid with 
gold, and the door-posts were of shining silver. With- 
in were seats and sumptuous couches ranged against 
the wall, from the entrance even to the inner cham- 
bers ; and upon them were spread light coverings, 
woven and embroidered by the deft hands of women. 
And so great was the sheen of brass, of gold and silver, 
and of precious gems, within this hall, that the light 


The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 15 1 


gleamed from floor to ceiling, like the beams of the sun 
or the round full moon. 1 

The aged king was pleased to see the heroes ; for 
Iphitus and he had been lifelong friends, firm and true, 
through every turn of fortune. And when he learned 
the name and parentage of young Odysseus, he took 
him by the hand, and bade him welcome for the sake 
of his father, good Laertes. 

The first words of greeting having been spoken, 
Odysseus, still wondering, went down into the polished 
baths. There, when he had bathed, he clothed himself 
in princely garments ; and he threw a soft, rich cloak 
about his shoulders, and made himself ready to stand 
in the presence of beauty, nobility, and courage. Then 
Polydeuces led him back into the great hall. 

But a change had taken place while he was gone. 
The king was no longer alone. There stood around 
him, or sat upon couches, all the noblest young heroes 
of Hellas. The king’s son-in-law, tall Agamemnon of 
Mycenae, stood behind the throne ; and near him was 
his handsome brother Menelaus. Among all the princes 
then at Lacedaemon, these two sons of Atreus were 
accounted worthiest ; for not only did they excel in 
strength and wisdom, but they were heirs to the king- 
dom of Argolis, and the lordship over men. Next to 
them stood Ajax the son of Telamon; he was nephew 
to old King Peleus, who had wedded the sea-nymph 
in the cave-halls of Mount Pelion ; and among the 

1 See Note 12 at the end of this volume. 


l S 2 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


younger heroes there was none who equalled him in 
bravery. 

Reclining on a couch at the king’s left hand was 
another prince of the same name, — Ajax, the son of 
Oileus. He had come that day from Locris, where he 
was noted as the swiftest runner and the most skilful 
spearsman in all Hellas. He was neither so tall nor so 
handsome as the son of Telamon ; but the very glance 
of his eye, and the curl of his lip, made men admire 
and love him. 

Below him stood Diomede of Tiryns, who, though 
still a mere youth, was a very lion in war. His father, 
brave Tydeus, had met his death while fighting with 
the Thebans ; but he had long ago avenged him. 

Idomeneus, a prince of Crete, known far and wide 
for his skill in wielding the spear, was next, a man 
already past the prime of life. And beyond him in 
order were other princes : Philoctetes of Meliboea, 
famous for his archery ; Machaon, son of Asclepius, 
from CEchalia, the home of Iphitus ; Antilochus of 
Pylos, late the companion of Odysseus ; Nireus of Syma, 
famed only for his comeliness ; and Menestheus of 
Athens, who, in the management of men and horses 
and the ordering of battle, had not a peer on earth. 

All these were in the hall of King Tyndareus ; and 
they received Odysseus with words of seeming kind- 
ness, although a shade of jealousy was plainly seen 
upon their faces. While they were speaking, a min- 
strel entered, and began to play deftly upon his lyre ; 


The Most Beautiful Woman in the World . 153 


and, as he played and sung, two dancers sprang upon 
the floor, and whirled in giddy mazes about the hall. 
Then from their high-roofed chamber, where the air 
was full of sweet perfumes, came three women to listen 
to the music. Helen, like in form to Artemis the 
huntress-queen, led the rest ; and when Odysseus saw 
her, he remembered no more the golden splendor which 
had dazzled his eyes when first he stood upon the 
threshold of the palace, for every thing else paled in 
the light of Helen’s unspeakable beauty. Next to her 
came Clytemnestra, who, a few years before, had been 
wedded to Agamemnon of Mycenae. She was fair, but 
not beautiful ; and the glance which fell from her eye 
sent a thrill of pain to the heart of the young hero. 
The two sisters were followed by their cousin, sweet 
Penelope, who, blushing like the morning, kept her 
eyes modestly upon the ground, and looked not once 
towards the company of princely strangers. And, as 
she stood leaning against a lofty column, Odysseus 
wondered within himself whether he admired more the 
glorious beauty of Helen, or the retiring sweetness of 
Penelope. 


ADVENTURE XIII. 


A RACE FOR A WIFE. 

Days and weeks passed by, and still Odysseus tarried 
as a guest at the court of King Tyndareus. His friend 
Iphitus had gone on to Tiryns to meet the hero Hera- 
cles, and had left with him his blessing and the bow 
of Eurytus. But the young princes who had come to 
Lacedaemon to woo the beautiful Helen remained in 
the palace, and each had vowed in the secret of his 
heart that he would not depart until he had won the 
matchless lady for his bride. Each had offered to 
the king gifts of countless value, — gold and jewels, 
fine horses, and well-wrought armor ; and each had 
prayed him that he would himself set the bride-price 
for his daughter, and bestow her on whom he would, 
even on the man who pleased him best. But the king, 
for reasons of his own, would give them no answer. 

All this time, Odysseus held himself aloof from the 
crowd of wooers, and kept his own counsel ; and, though 
all believed that he too was smitten with love for the 
peerless Helen, yet in his heart the blue-eyed Penelope 
reigned queen. One day as he sat alone with Tynda- 
154 



ODYSSEUS ADVISES KING TYNDAREUS CONCERNING HELEN’S SUITORS 



















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A Race for a Wife. 


155 


reus in his chamber, he saw that the king was sorely 
troubled ; and he began in his own way to find out the 
cause of his distress. 

“Surely, O king!” he said, “you are the happiest 
of men. For here you have, in Lacedaemon, every 
thing that can delight the eye, or please the heart. 
Wherever you may turn, there you see wealth and 
beauty ; and it is all yours, to do with as you like. 
Your sons are the bravest in the world ; your daughters 
are the fairest ; your palace is the most beautiful ; 
your kingdom is the strongest. There is certainly 
nothing to be wished for that is not already yours.” 

“ And yet,” answered Tyndareus, with a sigh, “ I am 
the most miserable of mortals. I would rather be a 
witless swineherd in the oak forests, living in a hut, 
and feeding upon roots and wild fruits, than dwell in 
this palace, beset with cares like those which daily 
weigh me down.” 

“I cannot understand you,” said Odysseus. “You 
are at peace with all the world ; your children are all 
with you *, you have no lack of comfort. There is noth- 
ing more for you to desire. How, indeed, can care 
come in through these golden doors, and sit upon your 
brow, and weigh you down with heaviness ? ” 

“ I will tell you,” answered the king, “ for I know 
that I can trust your good judgment. Here in my 
palace are all the noblest princes of Hellas suing for 
the hand of Helen, whom the gods have cursed with 
more than mortal beauty. Each has offered me a 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


156 


price, and each expects to win her. I dare not with- 
hold her long ; for then all will become angered, and 
my kingdom as well as my daughter will be the prey 
of him who is the strongest. I dare not give her to 
one of them, for then the other nine and twenty will 
make cause against me and bring ruin to Lacedaemon. 
On this side grin the heads of Scylla, all black with 
death ; on that side dread Charybdis roars ; and there 
is no middle way. Why, oh, why did not the immor- 
tals bless my daughter by giving her a homely face ? ” 
Then Odysseus drew nearer to the king, and spoke 
in lower tones. “ I pray you, do not despair,” he said. 
“There is a safe way out of all this trouble. If you 
will only trust me, I will lead the whole matter to a 
happy issue.” 

“ How, how ? ” eagerly asked the king. 

“ I will tell you,” said Odysseus. “ But you must 
first listen to a plea that I have to make. To you 
alone it is known that I am not a suitor for the hand 
of Helen, but that my hopes are all for coy Penelope. 
Speak to her father, your brother Icarius, and help 
me win her for my own, and I will settle this matter 
between you and the princely lovers of fair Helen in a 
manner pleasing to every one.” 

“ It shall be as you wish ! ” cried the king, taking 
heart. “ I will trust the management of this business 
to you, and may the wise Pallas Athen6 prosper you ! ” 
The next morning shrewd Odysseus arose, and 
clothed himself in princely fashion ; and, after the 


A Race for a Wife. 


57 


morning meal had been eaten, he bade the heralds call 
the suitors into the council-chamber. And the heralds 
called the gathering ; and the young heroes quickly 
came, one after another, until nine and twenty sat 
within the chamber where the elders of Lacedaemon 
were wont to meet. Then Odysseus stood on the 
raised platform, close to the door ; and Pallas Athene, 
unseen by the dull eyes of mortals, stood beside him, 
and whispered words of wisdom in his ear. 

“ Noble men of Hellas,” said Odysseus, “ I pray that 
you will hearken to the words which I shall speak, and 
that you will duly weigh them in your minds. We have 
all come to Lacedaemon with one wish and one intent, 
— and that is, to win the most beautiful woman in 
the world. We have offered, each one for himself, a 
bride-price worthy of the bride ; yet the king, for 
reasons which you ought to understand, is slow in 
bestowing her upon any of us. And so weeks and 
even months have passed, and we are still here, devour- 
ing the substance of our kind host, and yet as far as 
ever from the prize which we desire. Now, it behooves 
us to bring this matter to an end ; for otherwise we all 
shall suffer loss by being too long absent from our 
homes.” 

The princely suitors listened kindly to his words 
and all nodded their assent. Then he went on : — 

“ Upon how many of you, now, has the peerless 
Helen smiled as if in admiration ? ” 

Every man among them raised his hand in answer. 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


158 


“ Who, among you all, believes that fair Helen 
would prefer him, above every other, for a husband ? ” 

Every man arose, and, glancing proudly around him, 
answered “ I ! ” 

“I have, then, a plan to offer,” said Odysseus. 
“Let us leave the choice to Helen. And, in order that 
each may the better show whether there be aught of 
nobility in him, let us go forth straightway, and make 
trial of all the games in which any one of us excels. 
And when the games are ended, let glorious Helen 
come and choose him whom she will wed.” 

At this all the suitors shouted assent ; for each felt 
sure that he would be the chosen one. 

“But hearken to one word more !” cried Odysseus. 
“ The most beautiful woman in the world is a prize of 
priceless value ; and he who wins that prize will hardly 
keep it through the might of his unaided arm. Let us 
bind ourselves by an oath that he whom Helen chooses 
shall be her wedded husband, and that the rest will 
depart at once from Lacedaemon ; and that if any man, 
from near or far, shall carry peerless Helen from her 
husband or her husband’s home, then we will join our 
forces, and never falter in the fight until we have 
restored her to him.” 

“And further still,” added Ajax Telamon, “let us 
swear that should any one of us forget the agreement 
made this day, then the remaining nine and twenty 
will cause swift punishment, and terrible, to fall upon 
him.” 


A Race for a Wife. 


159 


Much more did shrewd Odysseus and the assembled 
princes say ; and in the end they made a solemn sacri- 
fice to Father Zeus, and lifting up their hands they 
swore that they would hold to all that had been spoken. 
Then, at an hour which had been set, they went out 
to make trial of their skill in all kinds of manly games, 
so that each might show wherein he excelled all other 
men, and thus stand higher in the regards of match- 
less Helen. And the heralds made announcement, and 
a great company followed them to the broad market- 
place between the palace and the city walls. King 
Tyndareus, happy that his perplexities were soon to 
end, sat upon a high throne overlooking the place ; 
and at his side stood the glorious twins, Castor and 
Polydeuces, clad in their snow-white armor. But 
Helen, dowered with beauty by the gods, stood with 
her maidens at the window of her high-built chamber, 
and watched the contest from afar. 

Then all the suitors, arrayed in princely garments, as 
became the mightiest men of Hellas, stood up in the 
lists, each for himself to take his part in the games. 
And each fondly believed that he, among them all, was 
the favored suitor of fair Helen. But shrewd Odysseus 
kept his own counsels, and wisely planned to reach the 
ends which he so much desired. 

Then the games began. And they made trial, first, 
in throwing the heavy spear ; and gray-bearded Idome- 
neus led all the rest. Then in shooting with the bow ; 
and Odysseus was far the best, for no one else could 


160 A Story of the Golden Age. 

string or handle the matchless bow of Eurytus. Then 
in throwing heavy weights ; and Ajax, son of Telamon, 
sent a huge stone hurtling from his strong arms far 
beyond all other marks. Then in wrestling ; and there 
was not one that could withstand the stout-limbed son 
of Oileus. Then in boxing ; and Philoctetes, the armor- 
bearer of Heracles, carried off the palm. Then in 
fencing with the broad-sword ; and Diomede held the 
championship, and found no peer. Then in leaping ; 
and Thoas of ^Etolia, one of the later comers, excelled 
all others. Then in the foot-race ; and here again the 
lesser Ajax left all the rest behind. 

And now the car of Helios was sloping towards the 
western sea, and King Tyndareus by a signal ordered 
that the games should cease. 

“ Come, my friends,” said he, “ the day is spent, and 
nothing can be gained by further trials of strength and 
skill. Let us go forthwith to my banquet-hall, where 
the tables groan already with the weight of the good 
cheer which has been provided for you. And when you 
have rested yourselves, and put away from you the 
thought of hunger, fair Helen will descend from her 
high chamber, and choose from among you him who 
shall be her husband.” 

And all obeyed, and went straightway to the great 
banquet-hall of the king. Now the court, and the hall, 
and even the passage-ways of the palace, were thronged 
with people old and young, noble and base-born ; for all 
had heard of what was to follow. And the steward of 


A Race for a Wife. 


1 6 1 


the king had slain a score of long-wooled sheep, and 
many swine, and two slow-footed oxen ; and these he 
had flayed and dressed for the goodly banquet. Then 
all sat down at the tables, and stretching forth their 
hands, they partook of the pleasant food so bounteously 
spread before them. And though some of the princely 
suitors had been beaten in the games, yet all were 
merry and hopeful, and many a pleasant jest was bandied 
back and forth among them. 

“The son of Oileus should remember,” said Nireus, 
“that the race is not always to the swift.” 

“And Nireus should remember,” said Thoas, “that 
beauty does not consort with comeliness. Aphrodite 
did not choose Apollo for her husband, but rather the 
limping smith, Hephaestus.” 

Then some one asked Nireus what was the price of 
hair-oils in Syma ; and this led to much merriment and 
many jokes about his smooth curls, his well-shaven face, 
and his tight-fitting doublet. 

“ If his father were living,” said one, “ he would be 
setting a bride-price upon him.” 

In the midst of the merriment, a herald passed 
through the hall, crying out, “ Remember your oaths, 
O princes of the Hellenes ! Remember your promises 
to the immortal gods ! ” 

A silence fell upon that multitude, like the stillness 
which takes hold upon all nature when waiting for 
the thunder-cloud to vent its fury upon the plains. And 
the minstrel, who sat upon a raised seat at the farther 


162 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


side of the hall, touched his harp with his deft fingers, 
and brought forth sounds so sweet and low and musi- 
cal that the ears of all the hearers were entranced. 
Then the door of the inner chamber opened, and the 
glorious Helen, leaning on the arm of old Tyndareus, 
came forth to make her choice. The hearts of all the 
suitors stood still ; they could not bear to look toward 
her, although her heavenly beauty was modestly hidden 
beneath her thick veil. She came iruto the hall : she 
passed Idomeneus, who sat nearest the inner chamber ; 
she passed the mighty Ajax, him of the noble form 
and the eagle eye ; she passed the doughty Diomede, 
wielder of the sword ; she passed Philoctetes, and 
Odysseus, and the stout-limbed son of Oileus. The 
hearts of the younger suitors on the hither side of the 
hall began to beat with high hopes. 

“ She surely has her eyes on me ! ” said the coxcomb 
Nireus, speaking to himself. 

She came to the table where Menelaus, the brother 
of Agamemnon, sat. She paused a moment, and then 
she held out her lily-white hand, in token that he was 
the husband of her choice. The great silence was at 
once broken, and a mighty shout went up to the high 
roof of the palace. Every one of the slighted suitors 
felt for an instant the keen pang of disappointment ; 
then, remembering their oaths, all joined in wishing joy 
to Menelaus and his bride. Some, however, chagrined 
and crestfallen, soon withdrew from the palace; and 
calling their servitors about them, they secretly and in 


A Race for a Wife . 


163 


haste departed from Lacedaemon. When the morning 
dawned, only ten of the young princes still staid in 
the halls of old Tyndareus. 

It was easy to understand why these remained. 
Sweet-faced Penelope had won other hearts beside that 
of young Odysseus. “ Since the glorious Helen is to 
be the bride of Menelaus,” said each of those who 
tarried, “ why shall not her fair cousin — who is wor- 
thier if not so beautiful — be mine to wed ? ” 

And straightway they beset Icarius with offers of 
rich gifts, begging him to set a bride-price on his daugh- 
ter, and bestow her upon him who should agree most 
willingly to pay it. The old man was sorely troubled, 
for he loved his daughter dearly ; and he could not bear 
the thought that a strange prince should lead her into 
distant lands where, perchance, his eyes should never 
more behold her. 

While he pondered sadly, sitting alone and bewildered 
in his chamber, he heard a minstrel singing in the hall. 
He listened. It was a song about Atalanta the fair 
huntress of Arcadia, beginning with the time when 
Meleager of the golden hair awarded her the prize 
in the far-off wood of Calydon. 

Then the minstrel sang of the maiden’s return to 
Arcadia : How she had stopped at Delphi on her way, 
and had asked the Pythia in Apollo’s temple to reveal 
the secrets of her future life. How the oracle could 
tell her nothing of the things that would befall her, 
but only gave her this advice : “ Keep thyself from 


1 64 A Story of the Golden Age . 

wedlock’s chains ! ” How, when she came again to her 
father’s palace, she found him beset by suitors asking 
for the hand of his fleet-footed daughter. Then the 
maiden, calling to mind the Pythia’s warning, besought 
her father to send the suitors home, and let her, like 
Artemis, live unwedded ; for she would be as free as 
the winds which play in the lovely vales of Mantinea, 
or beat the bleak tops of Mount Enispe. But old Iasus 
was a crafty man — an unfeeling father, loving gold 
more than his daughter. “ Behold,” said he, “ the 
bride-price that is offered. Shall I refuse so great gain, 
simply to please thy silly whims ? ” Then Atalanta 
was sorely troubled, and she prayed Artemis, the hunt- 
ress-queen, to send her help in the time of her great 
need. And Artemis hearkened, and spoke words of 
comfort to her heart ; and kind Pallas Athene gave her 
wisdom. 

“ My father,” said she to old Iasus, “ take thou the 
bride-price that any suitor may offer for me — but on 
these conditions : that he shall make trial with me in 
the foot-race, and if he outrun me, then I will go with 
him as his bride ; but if I outstrip him in the race, then 
he is to lose the bride-price offered, and his life is to be 
at your mercy.” 

Crafty Iasus was highly pleased, and he rubbed his 
palms together with delight; and he caused the her- 
alds to proclaim the terms on which the matchless Ata- 
lanta might be won. Some of the suitors departed in 
despair, for they knew that no mortal man was so fleet 


A Race for a Wife. 165 

of foot as the lovely huntress of Arcadia. But many 
others, less wise, put themselves in training for the 
trial. Then one by one, like silly moths plunging into 
the candle’s flame, they went down to the race-course 
of old Iasus, and tried their speed with that of the 
wing-footed damsel ; but all failed miserably, and none 
of them ever returned to their homes or their loving 
friends. And Iasus grew rich upon the spoils — the 
jewels, and the bride-gifts, and the arms — which he 
thus gained from the luckless lovers. 

One day Milanion, a youth from distant Scandia, came 
to try his fortune. “ Knowest thou the terms ? ” asked 
Iasus. 

“ I know them,” was the answer, “ and though they 
were thrice as hard, yet would I win Atalanta.” 

And Atalanta, when she saw his manly, handsome 
face, and heard his pleasant voice, was sad to think that 
one so noble and so brave should meet so hard a fate. 
But Milanion went down to the race-course with a firm 
step and a heart full of hope. For he had prayed to 
Aphrodite that she would kindly aid his suit, and lend 
him wings to reach the goal in advance of Atalanta; 
and Aphrodite had listened to his plea, and had given 
him three golden apples, and had whispered a secret in 
his ear. 

The signal was given, and youth and maiden bounded 
from the lists like arrows shot from a bow. But the 
maiden was much the fleeter of the two, and was soon 
far in advance. 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


1 66 


“ Another fool will soon come to grief!” said Iasus, 
laughing loudly. 

By this time Atalanta was near the turning-post, 
while Milanion, straining every nerve, was many yards 
behind. Then he remembered the secret which Aph- 
rodite had whispered, and he threw One of the golden 
apples far beyond the post. It fell upon the green 
lawn, a stone’s-throw outside of the course. The quick 
eyes of Atalanta marked its beauty, and she ran to pick 
it up. And while she was seeking it among the grass, 
Milanion passed the turning-post, and was speeding 
swiftly back towards the goal. It was only a moment, 
however, until Atalanta swift as the wind overtook him, 
and was again far in the lead. Then the young man 
threw a second apple, this time some distance to the 
right of the course. The maiden followed, catching it 
almost before it fell ; but Milanion had gained a hun- 
dred paces on her. Ere she could again overtake him, 
he threw his third apple over his shoulder and to the 
left of the course. Atalanta, forgetting in her eager- 
ness that the goal was so near, stopped to secure this 
prize also ; and lo ! as she lifted her eyes, Milanion 
had reached the end of the course. Old Iasus stormed 
with rage, and threatened many fearful things. But 
Milanion, smiling, came boldly forward and claimed his 
bride ; and she, blushing and happy, covered her face 
with her veil, and followed him willingly to the home 
of his fathers, in distant Cythera. 

Such was the song which the minstrel sang, and to 


A Race for a Wife. 


1 67 


which Icarius listened while sitting in his chamber. 
Suddenly a new thought seemed to strike' him, and he 
bade a herald call before him all the suitors of sweet 
Penelope. 

“My young friends,” he said, “you have asked me 
for my daughter’s hand, and promised me a liberal bride- 
price. I need none of your gold, nor do I wish to give 
my daughter to a stranger with whom she would be 
loath to go. Hence I shall do after this manner : He 
who shall win in a foot-race to-day, on the long course 
beyond the market-place, shall be husband of Penelope, 
but on this condition : that, if she choose to go with 
him, then he is to have her without the payment of a 
price ; but if she choose to stay with me, then he shall 
pay me a rich dower, and straightway depart forever 
from the gates of Lacedaemon.” 

The suitors heard the words of old Icarius, and all 
assented. Then soon the people were gathered again 
in the broad market-place; the long race-course was 
cleared and put in order, and every thing was made ready 
for the trial. The trumpet sounded, and the young 
princes came forward lightly clad for the race. Pala- 
medes, the cousin of Menelaus, fair and tall ; and Ajax 
Oileus, who had won the race on the preceding day ; 
and Megas, brave as Mars, from far Dulichium ; and 
Thoas, the ^Etolian prince ; and Phidippus, the grand- 
son of great Heracles ; and Protesilaus, from distant 
Thessaly ; and Eumelus, son of Admetus and the divine 
Alcestis ; and Polypoetes, descended from the Lapith 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


1 68 


king Peirithous and Plippodameia the daughter of the 
Centaurs ; and Elphenor, the son of large-souled Chal- 
codon, ruler of Euboea and the valorous Abantes ; and 
lastly, Odysseus, who had shrewdly planned all matters 
to this end. Rarely have ten men so noble stood up 
together to contend for honors or the winner’s prize. 

The word was given, and they darted forth, at once 
and swiftly, raising a cloud of dust along the course. 
From the very start, they strained at utmost speed ; 
they reached the turning-post, and hurried onward to 
the goal. But now stout Ajax no longer took the lead ; 
for Odysseus ran before the rest, and passed the goal, 
and came to the crowd by the lists, while yet the others 
with laboring breath were speeding down the course. 

Old Icarius was pleased with the issue of the race. 
For he hoped that Penelope would not consent to wed 
Odysseus and follow him to distant Ithaca ; and, if so, 
he would be happily rid of all the troublesome suitors. 

“ Come here, my sweet daughter,” he said. “ This 
young man, a stranger from a far-off land, has won thee 
in the games ; yet the choice is thine. Wilt thou leave 
thy old father, lonely and alone in Lacedaemon, prefer- 
ring to share the fortunes of this stranger ? Or wilt 
thou stay with me, and bid him seek a wife among the 
daughters of his own people ? ” 

And sweet Penelope covered her face with her veil to 
hide her blushes, and said, “ He is my husband ; I will 
go with him.” 

Icarius said no more. But on that spot he after- 


A Race for a Wife. 


169 


wards raised a marble statue — a statue of Penelope 
veiling her blushes — and he dedicated it to Modesty. 

Soon afterward Odysseus returned with his young 
wife to his own home and friends in sea-girt Ithaca. 
And, next to Penelope, the richest treasure that he 
carried thither was the bow of Eurytus. 


ADVENTURE XIV 


HOW A GREAT HERO MET HIS MASTER. 

Now, after two years and more had passed in peace, 
there came one day to Ithaca an aged wanderer who 
had many things of great import to tell. For he had 
been in every land and in every clime, and had trod the 
streets of every city, even from Pylos to Iolcos by 
the sea ; and he knew what deeds had been done by all 
the heroes, and what fortunes or misfortunes had be- 
fallen mankind in every part of Hellas. And Odysseus 
and the elders of Ithaca loved to sit around him in the 
banquet-chamber of Laertes, and listen to his stories, 
of which there was no end. For in that wonderful 
Golden Age, these strollers — blind bards and story- 
tellers — were the people’s newspapers, and oftentimes 
the only means by which those of one country could 
learn aught of what was passing in another. 

“ Alas ! the world is no longer as it was in the days 
of my youth,” said the old newsmonger, one morning, 
with a sigh. “ The heroes are all passing away. In- 
deed, of the older race, I can now remember only three 
who are still living, — Peleus, the king of the Myrmi- 

170 


How a Great Hero met his Master. 171 


dons ; Nestor, of lordly Pylos ; and Laertes, in whose 
halls we are sitting.” 

“You forget Cheiron, the wise master,” said Odys- 
seus. 

“ By no means,” was the answer. “ It is now seven 
years since Zeus took him from earth, and set him 
among the stars. Some say that Heracles, while fight- 
ing with unfriendly Centaurs, unwittingly struck the 
great master with one of his poisoned arrows. Others 
say that the master, while looking at an arrow, care- 
lessly dropped it upon his own foot, thus wounding 
himself unto death. But which be right, I cannot tell. 
I only know that Cheiron lives no longer in his cave- 
hall on rugged Pelion, and that the old heroes are all 
fast following him to the land of the unknown.” 

“ But what of Neleus, the old father of Nestor ? 
And what of my dear friend Iphitus of CEchalia ? And 
what of great Heracles? Surely the race of heroes 
still lives in them.” 

“ Can it be that you have not heard the sad story ? ” 
asked the old man. “ Can it be that no one has yet 
brought to you the strange news, over which all Plellas 
has been weeping ? Two harvests now have passed 
since the noble spirit of Iphitus fled down the dark 
ways, — it may be to the gloomy halls of Hades, it may 
be to the dwelling-place of fair-haired Rhadamanthus 
in the Islands of the Blest. And old Neleus followed 
swiftly in his footsteps, his feeble life snuffed out by 
the mad hand of Heracles. Nor did great Heracles 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


1 72 


himself long survive the evil deed and the wrath of the 
eternal powers. But now he sits enthroned on high 
Olympus, and walks the earth no more.” 

“Pray tell us how it all came about,” said King 
Laertes anxiously. 

Then the old news-monger, prefacing his story with a 
sad, wild song, told how the greatest hero of the Golden 
Age met at last his master, even Death, the master of 
all earth’s creatures. And this was the story that he 
told : — 

“When Heracles fled from Calydon, as you already 
know, he went to Trachis in Thessaly, close by the 
springs of (Eta ; and there he abode a long time. Yet 
his mind was ill at rest, and dire forebodings filled his 
soul; for cruel Here was threatening him with madness, 
such as had once before darkened his life, and driven 
him to deeds too terrible to think upon. And so, at 
length, he kissed his dear wife and his lovely babes, 
and went forth to wander once more in loneliness from 
land to land. He knew that he would not return ; 
and, unknown to Deianeira, he left in his dwelling a 
letter, such as men write when they feel that the end is 
drawing nigh. In it he told how the doves in the old 
oaks of Dodona had shown him that within the space 
of a year and three months he should depart from this 
earth ; and then he gave directions how his goods 
should be given to his children and his friends, and 
what they should do to hold his memory in honor. 


How a Great Hero met his Master . 173 


“After this he took ship, and came by sea to his 
old home at Tiryns, where erstwhile he had served 
his brother and task-master, Eurystheus. There he 
sojourned many days ; and there he met Iphitus of 
CEchalia, his friend in early youth, seeking twelve 
horses of great worth and beauty, which had been 
stolen from him. 

“ ‘ Go you to Pherae in Messene,’ said Heracles, his 
mind even then verging towards madness. ‘ It may be 
that the beasts have been taken by the lawless men of 
that country, for they live by robbery. But if you fail 
to find your horses there, come again to Tiryns, and 
report to me ; and then I will aid you, even though we 
should have to seek them in the pasture-lands of old 
Autolycus beneath the shadow of Parnassus.’ 

“ So Iphitus, with a score of his bravest followers, 
went down into Messene and Laconia, and even to the 
gates of Lacedaemon, looking for his horses. But he 
found no traces of the beasts ; and in time he came 
again to Tiryns, as the great hero had directed him. 

“Sad, however, was the day of his return, for the 
mind of Heracles was shrouded in deep darkness. 
While Iphitus sat as a guest at his table, the mighty 
son of Zeus arose in his madness, and slew him ; and 
Heracles cared not for the vengeance of the gods, nor 
for the honor of his own board. Moreover, the goodly 
horses of Iphitus were even then feeding in his stables 
at Tiryns, for Heracles himself had found them. 

“But after this the light began to struggle feebly 


174 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


in his mind, and the thought of his crime bore heavily 
upon him. Then he remembered old Neleus, the most 
ancient of men, and knew that he sat in the market- 
place at Pylos dealing out justice to all who came to 
him. And straightway he went by the nearest road 
to Pylos, and besought Neleus the venerable to purify 
him for the evil deed that he had done. But Iphitus 
and his father, old Eurytus, had been very dear to 
Neleus, — comrades and friends, indeed, in the stirring 
days of their youth. 

“ ‘ The blood of good Iphitus be upon you,’ said the 
old man to Heracles ; and he would not purify him, 
neither would he comfort him with words of kindness. 

“Then madness again overpowered the great hero, 
and in his wrath he marched through Pylos breathing 
slaughter. And he slew old Neleus in the market- 
place, and put his sons and the elders of Pylos to 
the sword, sparing only the knightly Nestor, most dis- 
creet of men. But the fury of the great hero was not to 
run unchecked. The ever-living powers can never look 
with favor upon that man who slays his guest in his 
halls or who deals harshly with old age. And so they 
caused Heracles to be sold to Omphale, queen of 
Lydia, to serve her as a bond-slave for a year and a day. 
And in that far-distant land he toiled at many a thank- 
less task until the days of his bondage were ended. 
Yet the great cloud was only a little way lifted from his 
mind, and he thought to himself that all the misery that 
had ever been his had come upon him through the 


How a Great Hero met his Master, 175 


house of Eurytus. So he swore with a great oath, 
that, when he had gotten his freedom, he would utterly 
destroy CEchalia, and would sell all its people into 
bondage. For, in a dazed, unreasoning way, he remem- 
bered fair Iole, and the slight which Eurytus had put 
upon him when he made trial of his skill in archery. 

“ Now, when he was set free, he remembered all too 
well the vow which he had made ; and when he had 
overthrown CEchalia, and had taken captive all the 
fair women and children, he bethought him that he 
would go again to Trachis where his wife and children 
still dwelt. But on his way thither he stopped for a 
time in Euboea to offer sacrifice to Zeus ; and he sent 
his herald Lichas on before him, with certain of the 
captives. When Lichas came to Trachis, and made 
himself known to Deianeira, she asked him what word 
he had brought from Heracles his master. 

‘“He is alive and well,’ said the herald, ‘and he 
tarries for awhile in Euboea to build an altar to Zeus.’ 

“ ‘ Why does he do that ? ’ asked Deianeira. 

“ ‘ He does it to fulfil a vow,’ answered the herald, — 
‘a vow which he made ere yet he had overthrown 
CEchalia and had led captive these fair women whom 
thou seest.’ 

“ Then Deianeira drew nearer, and looked with pity 
upon the captives as they stood in sad array on the 
shore of the desolate sea. And she lifted her hands 
toward heaven, and prayed that the great powers would 
keep her from such a fate and would shield her children 


ij6 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


that so sad an evil should never overtake them. Then 
she saw that one among the captives was much more 
beautiful than the others, tall and very fair, with long 
golden tresses, and eyes as round as the moon and as 
blue as the deep sea. And Deianeira, wondering 
whether she were not some great man’s daughter, 
asked her who she was ; but the sad captive answered 
not a word. The tender heart of the queen was filled 
with pity ; and she bade that the beautiful lady should 
be taken into the great hall of Heracles, and treated 
with the utmost kindness, that so she should not have 
sorrow heaped upon sorrow. Then she asked Lichas 
to tell her who the lady was ; but he said that he knew 
not, save that she seemed to be well born. 

“ But now when Lichas had gone to the tents by the 
shore, there came to Deianeira in the palace a mischief- 
maker who told her that Lichas had not answered truly 
in this matter. 

“‘He knows, as well as I, who this fair stranger 
is,’ said the mischief-maker. ‘ She is the daughter of 
King Eurytus of CEchalia, and the sister of Iphitus. 
Her name is Iole ; and it was for the sake of her 
beauty that Heracles destroyed her father’s city.’ 

“Then Deianeira was sadly troubled lest the heart 
of the great hero should be turned away from her, and 
his affections set upon this lovely captive. So she sent 
again for Lichas, and questioned him still further. At 
first he denied that he knew any thing about the fair 
lady; but afterwards, when hard pressed, he said, 



DEIANEIRA AND THE DYING CENTAUR NESSUS. 



How a Great Hero met his Master. 177 


‘She is indeed Iole, the fair damsel whom Heracles 
loved in the springtime of youth. But why he has 
brought this great grief upon her, and upon her 
father’s house, I cannot tell.’ 

“ Sorely troubled now was Deianeira, and all day long 
she sat in her chamber, and pondered what she should 
do. And when the evening was come, she called her 
friends together, the women and maidens who dwelt 
in Trachis, and talked with them. 

“ ‘ I have been thinking of what I can do to keep 
my husband’s love,’ she said. ‘ I had almost forgotten 
that I have a charm which will help me, or I might not 
have been so sadly troubled. Years and years ago, 
when we were fleeing from my dear old home at Caly- 
don, we came to the river Evenus. The water was 
very deep, and the current very swift ; but there lived 
on the banks of the stream an old Centaur, named 
Nessus, whose business it was to ferry travellers across 
to the other shore. He first took my husband safely 
over, and then myself and our little son Hyllus. But 
he was so rude, and withal so savage in his manners, 
that Heracles was greatly angered at him ; and he 
drew his bow, and shot the brutish fellow with one of 
his poisoned arrows. Then my woman’s heart was 
filled with pity for the dying Centaur, wicked though 
he was ; and I felt loath to leave him suffering alone 
upon the banks of Evenus. And he, seeing me look 
back, beckoned me to him. “Woman,” he said, “ I am 
dying ; but first I would give thee a precious gift. 


1 78 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


Fill a vial with the blood that flows from this wound, 
and it shall come to pass that if ever thy husband’s 
affections grow cold, it will serve as a charm to make 
him love thee as before. It needs only that thou 
shouldst smear the blood upon a garment, and then 
cause him to wear the garment so that the heat of the 
sun or of a fire shall strike upon it.” I quickly filled 
the vial, as he directed, and hastened to follow my 
husband.’ 

“Then Deianeira called the herald Lichas, and said, 

‘ Behold, here is a fair white garment which I have 
woven with my own hands ; and I vowed many days 
ago, that, if my husband should again come home, I 
would give him this garment to wear while offering 
sacrifice. Now he tarries, as you say, to do homage to 
the gods in Euboea. Go back, therefore, to meet him, 
and give him this white robe as a gift from his wife. 
Say to him that on no account shall he let another 
wear it ; and that he shall keep it carefully folded up, 
away from the light and the heat, until he shall be 
ready to clothe himself in it.’ 

The herald promised to do as he was bidden ; and in 
that same hour he hastened back to meet his master 
in Euboea, taking with him his master’s young son 
Hyllus. 

“Not many days after this, a great cry and sad 
be wailings were heard in the house of Heracles; and 
Deianeira rushed forth from her chamber crying aloud 
that she had done some terrible deed. ‘ For I 


How a Great Hero met his Master . 


179 


anointed the fair robe which I sent to my husband 
with the blood of Nessus the Centaur; and now, 
behold, the bit of woollen cloth which I dipped into the 
charm, and used as a brush in spreading it upon the 
robe, is turned to dust, as if a fire had burned it 
up. I have not forgotten any thing that the Centaur 
told me : how I was to keep the charm where neither 
the light of the sun nor the heat of the fire could 
touch it. And this I have done until now; only the 
bit of woollen cloth was left lying in the sunshine. 
Oh, fearful am I that I have slain my husband ! For 
why should the Centaur wish to do well by the man 
who brought death upon him ? ’ 

“ Hardly had she spoken these words when her son 
Hyllus came in great haste to the palace, even into the 
woman’s hall where she stood. 

“‘ O my mother ! ’ he cried. ‘Would that you were 
not my mother! For do you know that you have this 
day brought death and destruction upon my father.’ 

“ ‘ Oh, say not so, my son,’ wailed Deianeira. ‘ It 
cannot be ! ’ 

“‘But truly it is so,’ said Hyllus. ‘For when 
Lichas and myself came to Euboea bearing the white 
robe which you sent, we found my father ready to 
begin his offering of sacrifices. And he was glad 
to see me and to hear from you ; and he took the beau- 
tiful robe and put it upon him. Then he slew twelve 
fair oxen, and joyfully worshipped the ever-living 
powers. But when the fire grew hot, the deadly robe 


i8o 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


began to cling to him, and pangs, as if caused by the 
stings of serpents, shot through him, and the pains of 
death seized on him. He asked Lichas why he had 
brought that robe ; and when the herald told him 
that it was your gift, he seized the wretch, and cast 
him over the cliff upon the sharp rocks beneath. 
And great fear filled the hearts of all who saw the 
sufferings of the mighty hero ; and none of them 
dared come near him, so terrible were his struggles. 
Then he called to me, and said, “ Come here, my son. 
Do not flee from your father in his great distress ; but 
carry me from this land, and set me where the eyes of 
no man shall see me.” And so we put him in the hold 
of our good ship, and brought him home with us to 
. Trachis. And soon you shall see what you have done ; 
for you have slain your husband, — a hero the like of 
whom the world shall never see again.’ 

“When Deianeira heard these words she made no 
answer, but, with one despairing cry, she hasted to 
her high-built chamber ; and when, soon afterward, her 
maidens sought her there, she was dead. Then Hyllus 
came, also seeking her ; for the women of the house- 
hold had told him how she had been deceived by the 
dying Centaur. And when he saw her lifeless form, he 
wept bitterly, and cried out that now indeed the Fates 
had bereft him of both father and mother on the same 
day. 

“Then they brought Heracles into his own broad 
hall, bearing him upon a litter. He was asleep ; for the 


How a Great Hero met his Master. 181 


pain had left him a little while, and tired Nature was 
taking her dues. But the sad wailings of his son awoke 
him ; and again he cried aloud in his agony, and be- 
sought those who stood around him that they would 
give him a sword wherewith to end his pain. Then 
Hyllus came into the hall, and told his father all about 
the terrible mistake which his mother had made, and 
how the Centaur had deceived her, and how she was at 
that moment lying dead, with a broken heart, in the 
chamber overhead. 

“ ‘ Then, indeed, is my doom come,* cried Heracles. 
‘For long ago the oracles spake of me, that I should 
die, not by the hands of any living being, but by the 
guile of one dwelling in the regions of the dead. So 
now Nessus, whom I slew so long ago, is avenged ; for 
he has slain me. Now, my son, carry me to the wooded 
summit of the hill of CEta, and build there a great pile 
of olive beams and of oak ; and, when it is finished, lay 
me upon it, and set fire unto it. And shed no tear, 
neither utter any cry, but work in silence ; for thus 
thou shalt prove thyself a son of Heracles.’ 

“ The boy promised to do all this as his father wished, 
only he would not set fire to the pile. So when he had 
built the pile, and had put between the beams great 
stores of spices and sweet-smelling herbs, they laid 
Heracles upon it ; and Philoctetes, the hero’s armor- 
bearer, set fire to the pile. And Heracles, for this 
kindness, gave to Philoctetes his famous bow, — a 
weapon more marvellous even than the bow of Eurytus. 


182 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


Then the red flames shot high towards heaven, shed- 
ding brightness over land and sea ; and the mighty 
hero was at rest. He had met his master.” 

Such was the story that the old news-monger told 
in the hall of King Laertes. 


ADVENTURE XV. 


LONG LIVE THE KING! 

“ Surely,” sighed Laertes, “the old heroes pass 
away ; but the younger heroes press hard in their foot- 
steps, and will fill their places well. The gods have 
written it in every tree, and upon every blade of grass, 
that the aged, however Worthy, cannot endure forever. 
The ripened fruit falls to the ground, but there will be 
other and better fruit on the branches by and by. An- 
cient Cronos gave place, not willingly, to Zeus ; and 
Zeus is by far the greater of the two. And there be 
certain oracles which have foretold the doom of Zeus ; 
even that he shall be hurled from his throne by a king 
of peace, who shall reign everlastingly.” 

Then on a day, he called the elders of Ithaca 
together, and spoke to them in this wise : “ My son 
Odysseus is now a grown-up man, wise and shrewd 
beyond any other among you. He is skilled in all kinds 
of knowledge and of handicraft ; in matters of judg- 
ment he is without a peer, and in matters requiring 
courage he is foremost among men. Moreover, he is 
married to a wife, sweet Penelope, unexcelled in wifely 

*83 


184 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


virtues; and he has a son and heir, Telemachus, — a 
smiling babe who has not yet seen the round of one full 
moon. Now, why should the old branch stand longer 
in the way of the new and vigorous shoot ? This day 
I will give up my kingdom to my son, and he shall 
henceforth rule this island in his own name.” 

And all the people rejoiced when they heard his 
words ; and straightway they hailed Odysseus king of 
Ithaca, and offered thanksgiving and sacrifice to Pallas 
Athene, who had blessed him with wisdom above 
that of other men. And good Laertes retired to his 
mountain farm, where no vexing questions of govern- 
ment would take him away from his vines and fruit- 
trees. “ Here,” said he, “ I hope to end my days in 
peace.” 

When the men of Cephallenia and the dwellers in 
the rugged island of Zacynthus heard that young 
Odysseus ruled by his own right in Ithaca, they came 
and offered him their friendship and allegiance; for 
they were kinsmen of the Ithacans. They brought 
rich presents of corn and wine and of long-wooled 
sheep, and promised to bear him aid in time of need, 
if ever that time should come. 

At about this time, old Icarius, the father of Penel- 
ope, came to Ithaca for a brief visit to his daughter. 
For his eyes had long yearned to see her, and he could 
find no rest until he knew that she was happy and well 
cared for in the new home which she had chosen. 
And Penelope asked him a thousand questions about 


Long Live the King ! 


185 


her friends and her kinsfolk in dear old Lacedaemon, 
and to all these questions he made answer as he best 
knew. 

“We have now a new king at Lacedaemon,” said 
Icarius, “even brave Menelaus, the husband of your 
cousin Helen.” 

“ But where is King Tyndareus, my good uncle ? ” 
asked Penelope. “ And where are my noble twin 
cousins, Castor and Polydeuces ? Do they share the 
kingdom with Menelaus ? ” 

“ I will tell you all about it,” answered her father. 
And then he told her how it had come about that 
Menelaus was called to the kingship of Lacedaemon : — 

“ As the feebleness of age began to take hold upon 
him, King Tyndareus bethought him that he would 
resign his kingdom to his sons, the twin heroes Castor 
and Polydeuces. But the restless youths cared not to 
take upon them duties which would keep them within 
the narrow bounds of Lacedaemon ; for they were not 
home-stayers, but they wandered hither and thither over 
many seas and through strange lands, doing brave and 
noble deeds innumerable. The story of their labors in 
times of peace and of their prowess in times of war 
was upon every tongue, and was sung by minstrels 
in every city of Hellas. Wherever public games were 
held, there the twins were the masters of the course 
and the field, and the awarders of the prizes. Wher- 
ever battles raged and where the fight was thickest, 


1 86 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


there the glorious heroes, on their snow-white steeds, 
were seen striking fearlessly for the cause of right. 
And men told how it was they who first taught the 
bards to sing songs of battle and paeans of victory ; and 
how it was they who first showed the glad feet of the 
victors how to tread the wild mazes of the war-dance ; 
and how it was they who, in their friendship for sea- 
farers, had guided many a vessel over the roughest seas, 
safe into the wished-for haven. They belonged not 
more to their native Lacedaemon than to the whole 
wide world. 

“There came a time, however, when the men of 
Laconia quarrelled with their neighbors of Arcadia, 
and there was war upon the borders. Then Castor 
and Polydeuces hastened to take sides with their kins- 
men. Mounted on their swift steeds, Phlogios and 
Harpagos, the gifts of Hermes, they made raid after 
raid across the mountains ; and they brought back 
many a choice herd of cattle, or flock of sheep, from 
the pasture-lands of Arcadia. 

“ It happened on a day, that their cousins Idas and 
Lynceus, two lawless men from Messene, joined them, 
and the four drove many cattle across the borders, and 
hid them in a glen at the foot of Mount Taygetus. 
Then they agreed that Idas should divide the booty 
into four parts, and give to each a part. But Idas was 
a crafty man, more famed for his guile than for his 
courage ; and he planned how he might take all the 
herd for his own. So he killed a fat ox, and having 


Long Live the King ! 


1 87 


flayed and dressed it, he cut it into four parts. Then 
he called the other men about him. 

“ 4 It would be a great pity to divide so fine a herd as 
this of ours among four owners,’ he said. 4 Therefore 
I have a plan by which one, or at most two of us, may 
fairly gain the whole. Behold, here are the four quar- 
ters of the ox which I have slain. This quarter belongs 
to Castor, this to Polydeuces, this to Lynceus, and this 
to myself. He who first eats the share allotted to him 
shall have half of the cattle for his own ; he who next 
finishes shall have the other half.’ 

“Then, without another word, he began to eat the 
quarter which he had allotted to himself ; nor was he 
long devouring it, but with greedy haste consumed it 
before his comrades had tasted even a morsel. Next 
he seized upon the part assigned to Lynceus, and ate it 
as quickly as his own. 

“ 4 The cattle are all mine ! ’ he cried. And calling 
upon his brother to help him, they drove the whole herd 
into Messene. 

“ Then anger filled the souls of the twin heroes, and 
they vowed to take vengeance upon their crafty kins- 
men. One night when the moon lighted up both plain 
and mountain with her silvery beams, they made a rapid 
ride into Messene, and brought back not only the herd 
which Idas had taken from them by fraud, but as many 
cattle as were feeding in the Messenian meadows. 
Then, knowing that their cousins would follow them 
in hot haste, they hid themselves in the hollow 


1 88 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


of a tree in the mountain pass, and waited for the 
morning. 

“At break of day, the two Messenians, having missed 
their cattle, hastened to follow their trail to Mount 
Taygetus. Then Lynceus, whose sharp eyes could see 
through rocks and the trunks of trees, climbed to the 
top of a crag to look about them ; for they feared lest 
they should fall into an ambush. And as he peered 
into every nook and glen and gorge of the wild mourn 
tain, he saw the twins close-hidden in the hollow 
trunk of an oak. Then quickly he descended, and with 
stealthy tread he and Idas drew near their hiding-place. 
Castor saw them first ; but before he could speak, a 
spear from the hand of Idas laid him low in death. 
Then mighty Polydeuces leaped forth in his wrath, and 
rushed upon the slayers of his brother. Fear seized 
upon them, and they fled with winged feet into Mes- 
sene, and paused not until they stood by the marble 
tomb of their father, great Aphareus. But Polydeuces, 
following on, overtook them there, and with his spear 
he smote Lynceus a deadly blow. At the same time, a 
peal of thunder shook the mountain and rolled over the 
plain ; and Zeus hurled his fiery bolts at the bosom of 
crafty Idas, and laid him dead upon his father’s tomb. 

“ The grief of Polydeuces for the death of Castor was 
terrible to see ; and there was no one in all the world 
who could comfort him, or in any way make him forget 
his loss. Then he prayed the gods that they would 
take him, too, to Hades, that he might be in the dear 


Long Live the King! 


189 


company of his brother. And Zeus heard his prayer ; 
and he asked Polydeuces to choose whether he would 
sit in the courts of Olympus, and be the peer of Ares 
and Pallas Athene, or whether he would share all things 
with Castor. And the glorious hero cried, ‘ Let me 
be forever with my brother ! ’ His wish was granted 
to him ; and the twin heroes still live, although the 
quickening earth lies over them. One day they wander 
in the fields of asphodel, and enjoy the bliss of immor- 
tality ; the next, they flit among the unquiet shades in 
the sunless regions of the dead. And thus they share 
together whatever of joy or woe the grave can bring. 

“ When King Tyndareus learned that he was bereft 
of his sons, he fell prone to the earth ; and no one in 
Lacedaemon could console him. * Send for Helen, my 
peerless daughter ! * he cried. ‘ Send for Menelaus. 
He is my only son. He shall dwell in my palace, and 
rule in my stead ! ’ 

“ And that is the way in which it came about, that 
Menelaus was called to the kingship of Lacedaemon.” 

Old Icarius remained but a short time at Ithaca. A 
ship was waiting in the harbor, ready to sail to Pylos 
and the ports beyond ; and he knew that a like oppor- 
tunity to return to Lacedaemon might not soon be 
offered. And so, leaving his blessing with his children 
Odysseus and Penelope and the babe Telemachus, he 
departed. 


ADVENTURE XVI. 


THE CHILDREN OF PROMETHEUS. 

There was sore distress in Lacedaemon. Famine 
and a deadly pestilence grieved the land, and in every 
household the notes of wailing and despair were heard. 
For Apollo, vexed because the men of Laconia were so 
slow to understand his wishes, was shooting his fateful 
arrows broadcast among them. Like a night-cloud he 
brooded over the land, and strong men and fair women 
and helpless babes all fell alike beneath the sharp blows 
of his deadly shafts. And the heart of Menelaus the 
king was burdened with grief because of the people’s 
sore affliction. Then, when he found that sacrifice of 
lambs and goats availed him nothing, he sent in haste 
to ask the oracles the cause of Apollo’s wrath, and to 
learn what could be done to stay the plague. The 
answer came as quickly : — 

“When the bones of the children of Prometheus 
are brought from Ilios, and entombed in Lacedaemon, 
then the wrath of silver-bowed Apollo shall be turned 
aside, and the smiles of his favor shall bless the 
land.” 


The Children of Prometheus . 


191 


Then Menelaus made ready to depart at once to Troy 
to do that which Apollo demanded. A short journey 
by land brought him to the strong-built town of Helos 
on the shore of the eastern sea. There a swift-sailing 
ship lay at its moorings, while a score of long-haired 
seamen paced the beach, anxious to embark upon any 
errand across Poseidon’s watery kingdom. The captain 
hailed the king with joy, and the ship was soon made 
ready for the long voyage to Ilios. A plenteous stock 
of food was stored away in the broad hold ; arms, for 
defence against sea-robbers and savage men, were put 
in order, and hung in their places ; and rich presents 
for Priam, king of Troy, were taken on board. 

The next day a favoring wind sprang up ; the sails 
were set ; the seamen took their places ; and the ship 
with King Menelaus on board sped on its way to dis- 
tant Ilios. Poseidon, looking out from his golden 
palace beneath the sea, saw the vessel as it hastened 
on its errand ; and he bade the waves be still, and in 
no wise hinder its speed, for Apollo’s business must not 
be delayed ; and he called upon the breezes to blow 
steadily towards Ilios, that so the embassy of Menelaus 
might be happily performed. 

“ Surely the gods are all in league with us,” said the 
captain of the ship one day, pleased with the delightful 
voyage. “ To-morrow we shall doubtless sight the Les- 
bian coast, and from thence it is but a short sail to Ilios 
and Troy. And now, as we sit together in the prow of 
our good vessel, I pray you to tell us the story, once 


192 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


more, of great Prometheus, the bones of whose children 
seem so precious to Apollo.” 

And Menelaus willingly consented, and told the story 
as he himself had oft-times heard it from the bards : — 

“ When Zeus waged pitiless war upon the Titans, and 
hurled them headlong from the heights of Mount Olym- 
pus, he spared from the general ruin those who fought 
not with their own kindred, but espoused his cause. 
Among these and foremost of all was great Prometheus, 
whose name is Forethought, and whose chiefest glory 
lies in this, that he was the friend and lover of man- 
kind. It was the hope of bettering man’s condition 
that led him to fight against his kindred, and to aid in 
placing Zeus upon the throne of ancient Cronos. Yet 
Zeus cared naught for the feeble children of earth, but 
sought rather to make their burdens heavier and their 
lives more sad, that so the race might perish utterly. 
And the great mind of Prometheus set to work to 
learn how to make their lot less sad and their lives less 
miserable. 

“He saw that as yet they dwelt without forethought 
upon the earth, their life’s whole length being aimless, 
and their minds as void of reason as is the beast’s. 
They lived in sunless caverns, or in holes scooped in 
the ground ; and no provision did they make for heat or 
cold or times of scarcity, or the varying needs of youth 
and age. And Prometheus wasted no vain words in 
pity, but took at once upon him the Titanic task of lift- 


The Children of Prometheus. 


193 


in g the race up to a level with the gods. First, he 
taught them the use of fire, which, some say, he stole 
from Helios’ car, and brought to the earth, hidden in a 
fennel-stalk. Then he showed them how the stars rise 
and set, and how the seasons change in never-varying 
order. He showed them how to yoke and make sub- 
missive to their will the wild steeds of the desert plain ; 
how to turn the sod beneath the soil by means of the 
furrowing plough ; and how to build fair houses, and 
cities with strong walls and frowning towers. He 
taught them how to make ships, the storm-winged char- 
iots of the sea, and how to navigate the briny deep. 
He showed them the treasures which lie hidden under- 
neath the ground, — gold, silver, iron, — and taught 
them how to turn them into forms of beauty, strength, 
and use. In short, all arts now known to men came to 
them from the hands and mind of pitying Prometheus. 

“Now, when Zeus looked down from high Olympus, 
and saw the puny tribes of men no longer grovelling in 
the earth like senseless beasts, but standing upright, 
and claiming kinship with the gods, he shook with pent- 
up anger. And he called two of his mightiest servants, 
Strength and Force, whom none can resist, and bade 
them seize the friend of man, and bind him upon a peak 
of the snow-crowned Caucasus, there to linger through 
the ages in loneliness and pain. 

“ Then the ruthless slaves of Zeus went forth to do 
his bidding. They seized the mighty Titan, and dragged 
him to the bleak and barren regions of the Caucasus, 


i 9 4 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


beyond the utmost limit of the habitable earth. And 
with them went the mighty smith Hephaestus, all un- 
willingly, to bind the great victim with bonds of brass, 
which none could loose, to the lonely mountain-crags. 

“ ‘ This thing I do loathing,’ said Hephaestus. * Here 
I must perforce leave thee, chained and bolted to the 
immovable rocks. Thou shalt never behold the face of 
man, nor hear the accents of his voice ; but the blaze 
of the unpitying sun shall scorch thy fair skin, and 
thou shalt long for the night with its shimmering stars 
to cast a veil of coolness over thee. Year after year, 
thou shalt keep thy lonely watch in this joyless place, 
unblest with sleep, and uttering many a cry and un- 
availing moan. For Zeus is pitiless. This is what 
thou gainest for befriending man.’ 

“ There, then, they left him fettered ; but not until 
rude Strength had taunted him : ‘ Lo, thou lover of 
mankind ! Call now the puny race of mortals round 
thee, and crown them with honors ! Could all of them 
together lessen thy punishment in the least ? Surely 
the gods did jest when they gave thee the name of 
“Forethought,” for thou hast need of forethought to 
free thee from these bonds.’ 

“Then, when the solitary sufferer knew that there 
was no one to hear him, save only the sun, and the 
earth and the winds, and the winding river and the dis- 
tant sea, he broke forth in grievous cries and lamen- 
tations : — 

“ 4 O pitying sky, and swift -winged winds, and river- 


The Children of Prometheus. 


*95 


springs, and the many-twinkling smile of ocean, I cry 
to you ! O mother Earth, and thou all-seeing Sun ! 
behold what I endure because I gave honor to mortals ! 
Behold what torture is in store for me, while for ten 
thousand years I writhe in these unseemly chains ! 
Yet the things that come are all foreknown to me, and 
nothing happens unexpected ; and I must bear as best 
I may the ills that will perforce be mine, knowing that 
the end of all these things shall come to me at last.’ 

“ Then the Ocean-nymphs, with the fragrance of 
flowers and a rustling sound like the whirr of birds, 
came floating through the air, and hovered about the 
crag where Prometheus was bound. They had heard 
the clank of the iron and the heavy blow of the sledge 
resounding to the very cavern-depths of Ocean; and 
they had hastened to come, and offer him their sym- 
pathy. 

“ Following them, came old Oceanus himself, riding 
in his winged chariot ; for no firmer friend had Pro- 
metheus than this hoary-headed ancient of the encir- 
cling sea. He came to condole with the suffering Titan, 
and to counsel patience and submission. But he staid 
not long. 

“ ‘ I will drink the cup of bitterness to its very dregs,’ 
said Prometheus, 'and will bide the time when Zeus 
shall have quenched his wrath.’ 

“ And Oceanus, feeling that he had come in vain, 
turned about, and gladly hastened homeward to his 
halls beneath the ocean billows. 


196 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


“ After this many others came, weeping tears of sor- 
row for the sufferer, — tears of anger at the tyranny of 
Zeus. And wails of mourning were borne thither on 
the wings of the wind from all the tribes that dwelt 
in Asia, — from the warrior maidens on the Colchian 
coasts, from the savage horsemen of the Scythian 
plains, and from the dwellers on the farther shores of 
Araby. But the Titan, chained to the desolate crags, 
suffered on. Above him the vultures hovered, and the 
wild eagles shrieked ; and sun and storm beat merci- 
lessly upon his head, as the weary days and the length- 
ening years passed by. And yet no deliverance came. 

“ One day, as he writhed helplessly in his chains, 
Prometheus saw in the valley below him what at so 
great distance seemed to be a beautiful heifer, having a 
fair face like that of a woman. ‘ Surely,’ said he aloud, 
‘it is the child of Inachus, she who warmed the heart 
of Zeus, and is now through Here’s hate changed into 
an unseemly shape, and driven to weary wanderings.” 

“ Then the maiden gazed at him in wonder, and 
asked, ‘ Who are you whom the gods have doomed to 
suffer in this solitary place ? And how came you to 
know my father’s name, and the sorrows that have come 
upon me ? And tell me, I pray, if such knowledge be 
yours, whether there shall ever be any help for me, and 
when my sufferings shall have an end.’ 

“ The Titan answered, ‘ I who speak to thee am Pro 
metheus, who brought down fire to men, and gave them 
knowledge, and taught them how to do godlike things. 


The Children of Prometheus. 


197 


And I know that thou art Io, once the lovely daughter 
of Inachus, king of Argos ; but what thou art now, let 
thy own lips speak and answer/ 

“‘I cannot choose but tell you all,’ the maiden an- 
swered, ‘ though my speech shall with sobs be broken 
when I recall the memory of happy days forever gone. 
There was a time when in my father’s halls I dwelt in 
maidenly freedom, a spoiled and petted child. But as I 
grew to womanhood, dreams came to me which told me 
that I was beloved by Zeus. Such trouble did these 
visions bring to me, that I was fain to tell my father 
of them. He knew not what to do. But he sent swift 
messengers to Delphi and Dodona to ask the oracles 
what the dreams portended, and how he could best give 
pleasure to the gods. The answer came, that he should 
drive me from his doors into the wide and cruel world, 
or otherwise the fiery bolts of Zeus would burn up all 
his household and destroy him utterly. Reluctantly 
and weeping bitter tears, he shut me out ; and lo ! 
straightway my body was changed into the loathed form 
which stands before you, and a gad-fly stung me with 
its fangs, and I rushed away in madness, vainly hoping 
to find relief at Lerne’s fountain water. But there the 
herdsman Argus, with his hundred eyes, did track me 
out ; and with his scourge and the goading fly, I was 
driven along unending ways. Then Hermes, seeing 
my distress, took pity on me, and sought to free me 
from my cruel keeper But Argus never slept ; and with 
his hundred eyes he saw every danger, and shunned it 


198 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


while it was yet afar. At last Hermes bethought him 
of the power of music. Playing a soft melody on his 
lute, he stole gently towards the herdsman ; the sweet 
sounds charmed the savage ear, and sleep overpowered 
the hundred eyes. Then Hermes drew his sword 
quickly, and smote off the head of Argus, thus gaining 
for himself the name of the Argus-queller. But the 
shade of the terrible herdsman still follows me, and I 
find no rest ; and aimlessly I have come, thus goaded 
onward, to this wild mountain region.’ 

“ Then Prometheus in pitying accents said, ‘ Listen 
now to me, and I will tell thee, Io, what other sorrows 
thou must bear from Here ; for it is she who brought 
this woe upon thee and who hounds thee thus from land 
to land. Thou shalt journey onward from these moun- 
tain regions through the Scythian land, and the region 
of the uncouth Chalybes who work in iron. Thence 
thou shalt cross the mountains to the dwelling-place of 
the Amazons, who shall lead thee to the place where 
the ocean-gates are narrowest. There thou shalt 
plunge into the waves, and swim with fearlessness of 
heart to Asia’s shore. And that strait shall by its 
name, Bosphorus, tell to latest ages the story of thy 
wandering. But what I have told thee is only the 
beginning of thy doom.’ 

“Then Io wept. 

“‘Were it not better to die,’ she asked, ‘than to 
endure this hopeless misery ? ’ 

“‘Not so, O maiden,’ answered the Titan; ‘for if 





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The Children of Prometheus. 


199 


thou livest, then a son of thine shall loose me from my 
fetters, and perchance shall shake the throne of Zeus 
himself. When thou hast crossed the sea-ways which 
part the continent, thou shalt wander on until thou hast 
reached the outmost islands where the Gorgons dwell ; 
then returning thou shalt pass through the country of 
the griffins and the region of Ethiopia, and shalt come 
at last to the three-cornered ground where flows the 
Nile. There thou shalt rest, and thy maiden form with 
all its comeliness shall be thine again. In Canobus, a 
fair city by the sea, shall a home be made for thee ; and 
there shall Epaphos thy son be born, from whom in 
after-times shall spring great Heracles, who shall break 
my bonds and set me free from these hated fetters.’ 

‘‘Then Io, with a sigh of mingled hope and despair, 
went on her weary way, and left Prometheus alone 
again in the everlasting solitudes. And the wild eagles 
swooped down from their high-built nests, and circled 
with threatening screams about him ; a grim vulture 
flapped its wings in his face, and buried its talons 
in his bosom ; a mighty storm came hurtling down 
through the mountain passes ; the earth shook to and 
fro, and the peaks of Caucasus seemed as if toppling 
to their base ; a hurricane of snow and hail and rat- 
tling ice smote the Titan about the head, and wrapped 
his body in eddying gusts ; the lightnings leaped with 
lurid glare athwart the sky, and the thunders crashed 
with deafening roar among the crags ; and earth and 
air and sea seemed blent together in a mighty turmoil, 


200 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


and whirling into utter chaos. Yet, in the midst of all, 
the old Titan quailed not ; but with voice serene and 
strong he sang of the day when right shall triumph over 
might, when truth shall trample error in the dust, and 
the reign of Zeus give place to that of a nobler monarch 
just and perfect in all his ways. 

“ Thus years upon years passed, and ages circled by, 
until thirteen generations of men had lived and died 
upon the earth. Then came Heracles, the descendant 
of Io, to purge the world of vile monsters, and to give 
freedom to those who were in bonds. And as he wan- 
dered from land to land, to do the bidding of his master 
Eurystheus, he passed through Ethiopia, and came to 
the region of the Caucasus, close by the eastern Ocean’s 
stream. There, as he gazed upward at the everlasting 
peaks, he saw the great Titan fettered to the naked 
rock, while the eagles circled about him, and the grim 
vulture digged its talons into his flesh ; and Heracles 
knew that this was Prometheus the ancient, the friend 
of the human race and the foe of tyrants. He drew his 
bow, and with his unerring arrows slew the eagles and 
the vulture ; and then, with mighty blows of his club, 
he broke the chains which Hephaestus of old had 
wrought, and with his strong hands he loosed the long- 
suffering prisoner from his fetters. And the earth 
rejoiced ; and men everywhere sang paeans of triumph, 
because freedom had been given to him who raised 
them from the dust, and endowed them with the light 
of reason and the fire of god-like intelligence.” 


The Children of Prometheus. 


201 


This was the tale which Menelaus told to a company 
of eager listeners seated about him, in the prow of the 
swift-sailing vessel. 

‘‘Now you should know/’ he added, “that every 
lover of freedom in Hellas is in truth a child of Prome- 
theus. And so when Apollo, through his oracle, bade 
me fetch from Ilios the bones of the old Titan’s chil- 
dren, I understood that I was to gather the dust of all 
the Hellenes who have died in the Trojan land, and 
carry it to Lacedaemon for honored burial. And such 
is the errand upon which we are sailing to-day.” 

“ But why is it said that every Hellene is a child 
of Prometheus ? ” asked the captain. “ Is it simply 
because he is a lover of freedom and a hater of tyrants, 
as the old Titan was ? Or is there a real line of kin- 
ship reaching from us up to him ? ” 

“ I will tell you,” answered the king. “ While Prome- 
theus hung fettered to the bleak crag of Caucasus, and 
in grim patience bided the day of deliverance, his son 
Deucalion tilled the plains of Phthia, and gathered the 
ripe fruits on its sunny hills. And he dwelt in peace 
with all men, cherishing in his heart the words which 
his father had spoken to him in former times. But the 
world was full of wickedness, and there was violence 
and bloodshed everywhere ; and men no longer hau 
respect for the gods, or love for one another. ‘We 
are a law unto ourselves,’ they cried. ‘Why then 
should any one obey the behests of a master whom he 
has not seen ? ’ And they went on eating and drink- 


202 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


ing and making merry, and gave no thanks to the giver 
of every good. 

“At length, when their wickedness waxed so great 
that it was past all bearing, Zeus spoke the word, and 
a mighty flood burst upon the land. The west wind 
came sweeping in from the great sea, bringing in its 
arms dark clouds laden with rain. And when Deuca- 
lion saw the veil of darkness covering the sky, and 
heard the roar of the hurricane in the valley below him, 
he called to Pyrrha, his golden-haired wife, and said, 
* Surely, now, the day has come of which my father 
told me often, — the day when floods of water shall 
come upon the earth to punish the wickedness of men. 
Hasten into the ark which I have built, that, if so be, 
we may save ourselves from the merciless waves/ 

“ And they made the ark ready, and put a great store 
of food in its broad hold, and waited for the rising of 
the waters. Nor was it long ; for the torrents gushed 
down from the hillsides and filled the valleys, and the 
plains were covered over, and the forests sank from 
sight beneath the waves. But Deucalion and Pyrrha 
sat in the ark, and floated safely on the bosom of the 
heaving waters. Day after day they drifted hither and 
thither, until at last the ark rested on the lofty peak 
of Parnassus. Then Deucalion and Pyrrha stepped out 
upon the dry ground ; the rain ceased to fall, the clouds 
were scattered, and the waters fled down the valleys 
and hastened to the sea ; but all the people of Hellas, 
save only Deucalion and Pyrrha, had perished in the 


The Children of Prometheus. 


203 


flood. And feeling their loneliness in the midst of the 
ruin and death which had come upon the land, these 
two built an altar to the gods, and offered thanks for 
their deliverance. Then Zeus sent Hermes, the bright 
messenger, to speak words of comfort to them. 

‘“Among all the folk of this land,’ he said, ‘you 
alone have lived blameless lives, and with your clean 
hands and pure hearts have pleased the immortals. Ask 
now what you most desire, and it shall be given to 
you.’ 

“ Then Deucalion wept as he bowed before the mes- 
senger. ‘Grant that we may see the earth teeming 
again with busy men,’ he said. 

“‘It shall be as you wish,’ answered Hermes. ‘As 
you go down the mountain into the plain, cover your 
faces with your mantles, and throw the bones of your 
mother behind you.’ 

“ Then the messenger left them, and they wondered 
between themselves what was the meaning of his words. 

“ ‘ Who is our mother ? ’ asked Pyrrha. 

“ ‘ Is not the earth the mother of us all ? ’ then an- 
swered Deucalion. ‘ His meaning is plain enough now.’ 

“ So, as they went down Parnassus, they took up 
stones, and threw them behind them. And the stones 
which Deucalion threw sprang up and were mighty 
armed men ; and those which Pyrrha threw became fair 
women. Thus the hills and the valleys were peopled 
anew ; and the earth smiled, and was glad that a new 
and happier day had dawned. 


204 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


“ But Deucalion went with Pyrrha into Locris ; and 
there he built the city of Opus, where he reigned king 
for many years ; and there sons and daughters, noble 
and beautiful, were born ; but the noblest was Hellen, 
from whom the Hellenes are descended, and our country 
of Hellas takes its name. 

“ Do you understand now how every one of us can 
claim to be a son of great Prometheus ? ” 


ADVENTURE XVII. 


A CAUSE OF WAR. 


Time passed. 

Menelaus had returned from Ilios, bringing with him 
the bones of his countrymen who had died in that dis- 
tant land. The great plague had been stayed, for the 
anger of Apollo had been assuaged. And it had seemed 
for a time that the old days of peace and plenty had 
come again to Lacedaemon, never to depart. 

Yet within a few weeks all was changed once more. 
There was silence in the golden halls of Menelaus, and 
guests sat no longer as of yore around the banquet- 
tables. Anger and grief and uneasiness were plainly 
seen in every face. Men gathered in the streets, and 
talked in wild, excited tones about the strange things 
which had lately happened in Lacedaemon; and the 
words “ Helen,” and “Paris,” and “Troy,” and “Ilios ” 
seemed to be on every tongue, and repeated with every 
sign of love and hatred, of admiration and anxiety. 

“Our good king, by his visit to Troy, lifted the 
scourge of pestilence and famine from our land,” said 
one of the elders of the city ; “ but he brought to our 


205 


206 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


shores a greater evil, — even Paris, the handsome prince 
of Ilios. And now the glory of our country, the sun 
which delighted all hearts, the peerless Helen, has been 
stolen by the perfidious one, and carried to his home 
beyond the sea.” 

“ And do you think there will be war ? ” asked a long- 
haired soldier, toying with the short dagger in his belt. 

“ How can it be otherwise ? ” answered the elder. 
“ When Menelaus won peerless Helen for his wife, the 
noblest princes of Hellas promised with solemn oaths 
that they would aid him against any one who should try 
either by guile or by force to take her from him. Let 
the word be carried from city to city, and all Hellas will 
soon be in arms. The king, with his brother Agamem- 
non, has even now crossed over to Pylos to take counsel 
with old Nestor, the wisest of men. When he comes 
back to Lacedaemon, you may expect to see the watch- 
fires blazing on the mountain-tops.” 

“No sight would be more welcome,” answered the 
soldier. 

“None, indeed, save only the towers and palaces of 
Troy in flames ! ” returned the other earnestly. 

Meanwhile, with troubled brow and anxious heart, 
Menelaus sat in Nestor’s halls, and told the story of 
his wrongs. Before him, seated on a fair embroidered 
couch, was the aged king, listening with eager ears. 
Behind him stood his brother Agamemnon, tall and 
strong, and with eye and forehead like mighty Zeus. 


A Cause of War. 


207 


Close by his feet two heroes sat : on this side, Antilo- 
chus, the valiant son of Nestor ; and on that, sage 
Palamedes, prince of Euboea’s distant shores. The last 
had just arrived at Pylos, and had not learned the 
errand which had brought the king of Lacedaemon 
thither. 

“Tell again the story of your visit to Troy,” said 
Nestor. “Our guest, good Palamedes, would fain 
understand it all ; and I doubt not that he may be of 
service to your cause.” 

Then Menelaus began once more at the beginning, — 

“ There is no need that I should speak of the long 
voyage to Ilios, or of the causes which persuaded me 
to undertake it. When I drew near the lofty citadels 
of Troy, and through the Scaean gates could see the 
rows of stately dwellings and Athene’s marble temple, 
and the busy market-place of that great city, I stopped 
there in wonder, fearing to venture farther. Then I 
sent a herald to the gates, who should make known my 
name and lineage, and the errand upon which I had 
come ; but I waited without in the shade of a spread- 
ing beech, not far from the towering wall. Before me 
stood the mighty city; behind me the fertile plain 
sloped gently to the sea ; in the distance I could see 
the tomb of Ilus and the sparkling waters of Sca- 
mander ; while much farther, and on the other side, 
the snowy peak of Ida lifted itself among the clouds. 
But I had not long to view this scene ; for a noble 
company of knights led by Paris himself, handsome as 


208 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


Apollo, came out of the gates to welcome me. With 
words of kind greeting from the king, they bade me 
enter within the walls. They led me through the 
Scaean gates and along the well-paved streets, until we 
came, a i last, to Priam’s noble hall. It was a splendid 
house, with broad doorways and polished porticos, and 
marble columns richly carved. Within were fifty 
chambers, joining one another, all walled with polished 
stone ; in these abode the fifty sons of Priam with 
their wedded wives. On the other side, and opening 
into the court, were twelve chambers, built for his 
daughters ; while over all were the sleeping-rooms for 
that noble household, and around were galleries and 
stairways leading to the king’s great hall below. 

“ King Priam received me kindly, and, when he 
understood my errand, left naught undone to help me 
forward with my wishes. Ten days I abode as a guest 
in his halls, and when I would return to Lacedaemon 
he pressed me to tarry yet a month in Troy. But the 
winds were fair, and the oracles promised a pleasant 
voyage, and I begged that on the twelfth day he would 
let me depart. So he and his sons brought many 
gifts, rich and beautiful, and laid them at my feet, — a 
fair mantle, and a doublet, and a talent of fine gold, 
and a sword with a silver-studded hilt, and a drinking- 
cup richly engraved that I might remember them when 
I pour libations to the gods. 

‘“Take these gifts,’ said Priam, ‘as tokens of our 
friendship for you, and not only for you, but for all who 


A Cause of War. 


209 


dwell in distant Hellas. For we too are the children 
of the immortals. Our mighty ancestor, Dardanus, 
was the son of Zeus. He it was who built Dardania 
on the slopes of Ida, where the waters gush in many 
silvery streams from underneath the rocky earth. To 
Dardanus a son was born named Erichthonius, who, 
in his time, was the richest of mortal men. And 
Erichthonius was the father of Tros, to whom were 
born three noble sons, Ilus, Assaracus, and Ganymedes. 
The last was the handsomest of men, and for his beauty’s 
sake the gods carried him to Ida’s sacred summit to 
be the cup-bearer of Father Zeus and the companion 
of the immortals. Then Ilus had a son, famous in 
song and story, named Laomedon, who in his old age 
became my father. He, though my sire, did many 
unwise things, and brought sore distress upon the 
people of this land. 

“ ‘ One day Apollo and Poseidon came to sacred Troy, 
disguised as humble wayfarers seeking some employ- 
ment. This they did because so ordered by mighty 
Zeus. 

“ ‘ “ What can you do ? ” asked my father, when the 
two had told their wishes. 

“ ‘Poseidon answered, “I am a builder of walls.” 

“‘And Apollo answered, “I am a shepherd, and a 
tender of herds.” 

“‘“It is well,” answered Laomedon. “The wall- 
builder shall build a wall around this Troy so high and 
strong that no enemy can pass it. The shepherd shah 


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tend my herds of crook-horned kine in the wooded, 
glens of Ida. If at the end of a twelvemonth, the wall 
be built, and if the cattle thrive without loss of one, 
then I will pay you your hire : a talent of gold, two 
tripods of silver, rich robes, and armor such as heroes 
wear.” 

“ 1 So the shining archer, and the shaker of the earth, 
served my father through the year for the hire which 
he had promised. Poseidon built a wall, high and fair, 
around the city ; and Apollo tended the shambling kine, 
and lost not one. But when they claimed their hire, 
Laomedon drove them away with threats, telling them 
that he would bind their feet and hands together, and 
sell them as slaves into some distant land, having first 
sheared off their ears with his sharp sword. And the 
twain went away with angry hearts, planning in their 
minds how they might avenge themselves. 

“ ‘ Back to his watery kingdom, and his golden palace 
beneath the sea, went great Poseidon. He harnessed 
his steeds to his chariot, and rode forth upon the waves. 
He loosed the mighty winds from their prison-house, 
and sent them raging over the sea. The angry waters 
rushed in upon the land ; they covered the pastures and 
the rich plain of Troy, and threatened even to beat 
down the mighty walls which their king had built. 
Then, little by little, the flood shrank back again ; and 
the people went out of the city to see the waste of slime 
and black mud which covered their meadows. While 
they were gazing upon the scene, a fearful monster, 


A Cause of War. 


21 1 


sent by angry Poseidon, came up out of the sea, and 
fell upon them, and drove them with hideous slaughter 
back to the city gates ; neither would he allow any one 
to come outside of the walls. 

“ ‘ Then my father, in his great distress, clad himself 
in mourning, and went in deep humility to the temple 
of Athene, where stands the heaven-sent statue which 
we call Palladion. In sore distress, he called unto the 
goddess, and besought to know the means whereby the 
anger of Poseidon might be assuaged. And in solemn 
tones a voice came from the moveless lips of the 
Palladion, saying, — 

Every day one of the maidens of Troy must be 
fed to the monster outside of the walls. The shaker 
of the earth has spoken. Disobey him not, lest more 
cruel punishments befall thee.” 

“ ‘Then in every house of Troy there was sore dis- 
tress and lamentation, for no one knew upon whom the 
doom would soonest fall. And every day a hapless 
maiden, young and fair, was chained to the great rock 
by the shore, and left there to be the food of the pitiless 
monster. And the people cried aloud in their distress, 
and cursed the mighty walls and the high towers which 
had been reared by the unpaid labors of Poseidon ; and 
my father sat upon his high seat, and trembled because 
of the dire calamities which his own deeds had brought 
upon his people. 

“‘At last, after many humbler victims had perished, 
the lot fell upon the fairest of my sisters, Hesione, my 


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father’s best-loved daughter. In sorrow we arrayed her 
in garments befitting one doomed to an untimely death ; 
and when we had bidden her a last farewell, we gave her 
to the heralds to lead forth to the place of sacrifice. 
Just then, however, a noble stranger, taller and more 
stately than any man in Troy, came down the street 
from the Scaean gate. Fair-haired and blue-eyed, hand- 
some and strong, he seemed a very god to all who looked 
upon him. Over his shoulder he wore the tawny skin 
of a mighty lion, while in his hand he carried a club 
most wonderful to behold. And the people, as he 
passed, prayed him that he would free our city from the 
dread monster who was robbing us of our fair loved 
ones. 

“ * “ I know that thou art a god ! ” cried my father, 
when he saw the stranger. “ I pray thee, save my 
daughter, who even now is being led forth to a cruel 
death ! ” 

‘““You make mistake,” answered the fair stranger. 
“ I am not one of the gods. My name is Heracles, and 
like you I am mortal. Yet I may help you in this your 
time of need.” 

“ ‘ Now, in my father’s stables there were twelve fair 
steeds, the best that the earth ever knew. So light of 
foot were they, that when they bounded over the land, 
they might run upon the topmost ears of ripened corn, 
and break them not ; and when they bounded over the 
sea, not even Poseidon’s steeds could glide so lightly 
upon the crests of the waves. Some say they were the 


A Cause of War. 


213 


steeds of Boreas given to my grandfather Tros, by his 
sire Erichthonius ; others, that they were the price 
which Zeus paid for godlike Ganymedes, most beautiful 
of men. These steeds, my father promised to give to 
Heracles if he would save Hesione. 

“ ‘ Then the heralds led my fair sister to the shore, 
and chained her to the rock, there to wait for the 
coming of the monster. But Heracles stood near her, 
fearless in his strength. Soon the waves began to 
rise ; the waters were disturbed, and the great beast, 
with hoarse bellowings, lifted his head above the 
breakers, and rushed forward to seize his fair prey. 
Then the hero sprang to meet him. With blow upon 
blow from his mighty club, he felled the monster; 
the waters of the sea were reddened with blood ; 
Hesione was saved, and Troy was freed from the dread- 
ful curse. 

“ ‘ “ Behold thy daughter ! ” said Heracles, leading her 
gently back to the Scaean gate, and giving her to her 
father. “I have saved her from the jaws of death, and 
delivered your country from the dread scourge. Give 
me now my hire.’ 

“ * Shame fills my heart as I tell this story, for thank- 
lessness was the bane of my father’s life. Ungrateful 
to the hero who had risked so much and done so much 
that our homes and our country might be saved from 
ruin, he turned coldly away from Heracles ; then he 
shut the great gates in his face, and barred him out 
of the city, and taunted him from the walls, saying, 


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“ I owe thee no hire ! Begone from our coasts, ere 
I scourge thee hence ! ” 

“ ‘ Full of wrath, the hero turned away. “ I go, but I 
will come again,” he said. 

“‘Then peace and plenty blessed once more the land 
of Ilios, and men forgot the perils from which they 
had been delivered. But ere long, great Heracles re- 
turned, as he had promised ; and with him came a 
mighty fleet of white-sailed ships and many warriors. 
Neither gates nor strong walls could stand against him. 
Into the city he marched, and straight to my father’s 
palace. All fled before him, and the strongest warriors 
quailed beneath his glance. Here, in this very court, 
he slew my father and my brothers with his terrible 
arrows. I myself would have fallen before his wrath, 
had not my sister, fair Hesione, pleaded for my life. 

“‘“I spare his life,” said Heracles, in answer to her 
prayers, “for he is but a lad. Yet he must be my slave 
until you have paid a price for him, and thus redeemed 
him.” 

“ ‘Then Hesione took the golden veil from her head, 
and gave it to the hero as my purchase-price. And 
thenceforward I was called Priam, or the purchased ; 
for the name which my mother gave me was Podarkes, 
or the fleet-footed. 

“ ‘After this, Heracles and his heroes went on board 
their ships and sailed back across the sea, leaving me 
alone in my father’s halls. For they took fair Hesione 
with them, and carried her to Salamis, to be the wife 


A Cause of War. 


215 


of Telamon, the sire of mighty Ajax. There, through 
these long years she has lived in sorrow, far removed 
from home and friends, and the scenes of her happy 
childhood. And now that the hero Telamon, to whom 
she was wedded, lives no longer, I ween that her life is 
indeed a cheerless one.’ 

“ When Priam had finished his tale, he drew his seat 
still nearer mine, and looked into my face with anxious, 
beseeching eyes. Then he said, ‘ I have long wished 
to send a ship across the sea to bring my sister back to 
Troy. A dark-prowed vessel, built for speed and safety, 
lies now at anchor in the harbor, and a picked crew is 
ready to embark at any moment. And here is my son 
Paris, handsome and brave, who is anxious to make 
voyage to Salamis, to seek unhappy Hesione. Yet our 
seamen, having never ventured far from home, know 
nothing of the dangers of the deep, nor do they feel 
sure that they can find their way to Hellas. And so 
we have a favor to ask of you ; and that is, that when 
your ship sails to-morrow, ours may follow in its wake 
across the sea.’ 

“ I was glad when Priam spoke these words, for, in 
truth, I was loath to part with Paris ; and I arranged at 
once that he should bear me company in my own swift 
ship, while his vessel with its crew followed not far 
behind. 

“ And so with favoring winds being blessed, we made 
a quick voyage back to Lacedaemon, bringing with us 
the bones of my beloved countrymen. What followed 


2 1 6 A Story of the Golden Age . 

is too sad for lengthy mention, and is in part already 
known to you. Need I tell you how I opened my halls 
to Paris, and left no act of courtesy undone that I 
might make him happy? Need I tell you how he was 
welcomed by fair Helen, and how the summer days fled 
by on golden wings ; and how in the delights of Lace- 
daemon he forgot his errand to Salamis, and cared only 
to remain with me, my honored guest and trusted friend ? 
One day a message came to me from my old friend Ido- 
meneus. He had planned a hunt among the mountains 
and wooded vales of Crete, and he invited me to join 
him in the sport. I had not seen Idomeneus since the 
time that we together, in friendly contention, sought 
the hand of Helen. I could not do otherwise than 
accept his invitation, for he had sent his own ship to 
carry me over to Crete. So I bade farewell to Helen, 
saying, ‘ Let not our noble guest lack entertainment 
while I am gone ; and may the golden hours glide 
happily until I come again.’ And to Paris I said, 
‘ Tarry another moon in Lacedaemon; and when I re- 
turn from Crete, I will go with you to Salamis, and aid 
you in your search for Hesione.’ Then I went on board 
the waiting ship, and prospering breezes carried us with- 
out delays to Crete. 

“ Idomeneus received me joyfully, and entertained me 
most royally in his palace ; and for nine days we feasted 
in his halls, and made all things ready for the hunt. 
But, lo ! on the evening of the last day, a vision came 
to me. Gold-winged Iris, the fleet-footed messenger of 


A Cause of War. 


217 


the gods, stood before me. ‘ Hasten back to Lace- 
daemon,’ she cried, * for thou art robbed of thy dearest 
treasure ! ’ And even while she spoke, one of my own 
ships came sailing into the harbor, bringing trusted 
heralds whom the elders of Lacedaemon had sent to 
me. They told me the fatal news. ‘ No sooner were 
you well on your way,’ they said, * than Paris began to 
put his ship in readiness to depart. Helen prayed him 
to tarry until your return, but he would not hearken. 
“ I will stay no longer,” he said. “ My seamen rest 
upon their oars ; the sails of my ship are spread ; the 
breeze will soon spring up that will carry me to my own 
fair home across the sea. But you, beauteous Helen, 
shall go with me ; for the deathless gods have spoken 
it. Aphrodite, long ago, promised that the most beau- 
tiful woman in the world should be my wife. And who 
is that most beautiful woman if it is not yourself? 
Come ! fly over the sea, and be my queen. It is the 
will of the gods.” ’ 

“ It was thus that the perfidious Trojan wrought the 
ruin of all that was dear to me. At first, Helen refused. 
But Paris is a handsome prince, and day after day he 
renewed his suit. Then on the sixth day she yielded. 
In the darkness of the night they went on board his 
waiting vessel, carrying with them the gold and jewels 
of my treasure-house ; and in the morning, when 
the sun arose on Lacedaemon, they were far out at 
sea. 

“ You know the rest : how in wrath and great sorrow 


2 1 8 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


I hurried home from Crete ; how I first counselled with 
my own elders, and then with my brother Agamemnon 
of Mycenae. And now, 0 noble Nestor, we have come 
to Pylos, seeking thy advice. On these two things my 
mind is set : Helen must be mine again, and Paris must 
suffer the punishment due to traitors.” 

When Menelaus had ended, sage Nestor answered 
with many words of counsel. “ Keep the thought of 
vengeance ever before you,” he said. “Yet act not 
rashly. The power of Troy is very great ; and, in case 
of war, all the tribes of Asia will make common cause 
with Ilios. But an insult to Lacedaemon is an insult 
to all Hellas, and every loyal Hellene will hasten to 
avenge it. More than this, the chiefs of almost every 
state have already sworn to aid you. We have but to 
call upon them, and remind them of their oaths, and 
all the mightiest warriors of our land will take up arms 
against the power of Troy.” 

Then Palamedes spoke in like manner, and his 
words had great weight with Menelaus ; for among all 
the heroes there were few who equalled him in wisdom. 
He it was who first built beacon-fires on the headlands, 
and light-houses to warn venturous seamen of the hid- 
den dangers in their way ; he it was who first invented 
scales for weighing, and who taught men how to 
measure grain and wine by certain standards ; he it was 
who first made dice, and who showed what beauty and 
mystery lie hidden in the letters which Cadmus brought 


A Cause of War. 


219 


from Phoenicia to Hellas. And he was wise in state- 
craft and the knowledge of human nature. 

“ Nestor has spoken well,” he said, addressing Mene- 
laus, “and it behooves us to follow his advice. Now ’ 
do you and Agamemnon return at once to Argos and 
Lacedaemon, and call upon the fighting men along the 
eastern coast to join you in the war. In the mean 
while, Nestor and myself will do the same, here on the 
western coast and among the islands of the sea.” 

“By the way,” said Nestor, “there is Odysseus, king 
of Ithaca, — the rarest and bravest of men. Did he 
but know of this affair, he would be a host within him- 
self, to lead us to sure victory.” 

“That is true,” said Palamedes, “and we must seek 
his aid first. My ship lies now at anchor, just off the 
beach ; and if noble Nestor will be my comrade, we will 
sail to-morrow to Ithaca, and make sure of his valued 
aid.” 

“Most surely I will go with you,” said old Nestor. 
“And I will never rest nor give up the fight, until 
Helen is returned to Menelaus, and Paris has received 
his due reward.” 


ADVENTURE XVIII. 


AN UNWILLING HERO. 

In the shade of the orchard-trees, at the foot of 
Mount Neritus, there was gathered, one afternoon, a 
happy family party. The chief figure in the group was 
white-haired Laertes, in his gardener’s garb, picking 
some ripe fruit from the overloaded branches. At his 
right stood Anticleia, as queenly beautiful as when 
her hero -husband had won her in the halls of old 
Autolycus. At his left was Penelope, her sweet face 
beaming with smiles ; while on the ground beside her 
sat Odysseus, gently dandling in his arms the babe 
Telemachus, and laughing at the budding wisdom of 
the child. 

“ Some men wander the wide world over, seeking for 
empty glory,” said he, turning towards Penelope. “ But 
I would rather have my pleasant home, and live amid 
its never-failing delights, than share the honors even of 
great Heracles.” 

At this moment, Phemius the bard was seen coming 
in haste from the palace. “What news, Phemius?” 
asked Odysseus. “ Hast thou finished that new song 


220 


An Unwilling Hero. 


22 1 


of thine ? And dost thou hasten thus to sing it to us 
before some part of it shall go out of thy mind ? ” 

‘‘Nay, master,” answered the bard, speaking in 
anxious tones. “ I have come to tell you that there are 
guests waiting in the hall. Famous men they are, — 
even Nestor, king of Pylos, and shrewd Palamedes of 
Euboea. And they bring wonderful news, — news of 
that which will, perchance, fill our land with sadness.” 

“Tell me what it is,” said Odysseus. 

Then the bard told the story of Paris and Helen, as 
he had learned it briefly from Palamedes ; and he 
explained the errand of the hero-guests which they had 
thoughtlessly imparted to him. Odysseus looked at his 
smiling babe, and at his fair wife, and his loved mother, 
and his honored father'; and his brow darkened as he 
shook his head, and said, “ Why should I risk so much, 
and, joining in this war, leave all that is dear to me on 
earth, simply for the sake of Menelaus and his mis- 
guided Helen ? ” 

Then, after a moment’s thought, he added, “I will 
not go. Tell Nestor and Palamedes that I am mad, and 
cannot go.” 

All at once a great change seemed to come over him. 
He put the babe into its nurse’s arms ; and then with 
long strides, and in the aimless manner of a maniac, he 
made his way across the orchard, and along the foot- 
path by the beach to the white palace near the shore. 
When his old friends, Nestor and Palamedes, saw 
him, they hastened towards him, expecting to receive 


222 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


his greeting ; but with unmeaning words, and a vacant 
stare, he passed by them without a word of recognition. 

“ He is mad,” said the frightened servants, as they 
fled before him. 

‘‘Yes, he is mad, and knows not where he is nor 
what he does,” said Phemius, hastily rejoining the 
guests. “When I went out to find him just now, he 
was wandering among the fruit-trees, picking the green 
fruit, and roaring like a wild beast. The gods have 
taken his reason from him.” 

“ How sad that so great a mind should be thus 
clouded!” answered Nestor, with a sigh. “And at 
this time it is doubly sad for us and for all who love 
him, for we had counted on great things from shrewd 
Odysseus. Surely some unfriendly god has done this 
thing with intent to harm all Hellas.” 

“ Do not judge hastily,” whispered Palamedes. “We 
shall find out from whence this madness comes.” 

Soon Odysseus rushed from his chamber, looking 
wildly about him, as if the very Furies were at his 
heels. He was dressed in his richest garments, and on 
his shoulder he carried a bag of salt. Without speak- 
ing to any one, he made his way to the stables, where, 
with his own hands, he harnessed a mule and a cow, 
and yoked them side by side to a plough. Then he 
drove his strange team down to the beach, and began to 
plough long, deep furrows in the sand. By and by he 
opened the bag of salt, and strewed the white grains 
here and there, as though he were sowing seed. This 







PALAMEDES TESTS THE MADNESS OF ODYSSEUS 

















































































































































































An Unwilling Hero. 


223 


strange work he continued until the daylight faded into 
darkness, and all the people were fain to seek rest under 
their home-roofs. Then he drove his team back to the 
stables, unyoked the beasts and fed them, and hurried 
silently to his chamber. 

The next morning, as soon as the dawn appeared, he 
was seen ploughing the sandy beach as before. 

“ I will see whether there be any reason in his mad- 
ness,” said Palamedes to Nestor. 

It chanced at that moment, that Eurycleia the nurse 
was passing by with little Telemachus in her arms. 
Without another word, Palamedes lifted the babe, and 
laid it smiling in the last furrow that Odysseus had 
made, so that on his next round the team would trample 
upon it. As Odysseus drew near, urging forward the 
mule and the cow, with many cries and maniacal ges- 
tures, he saw the helpless babe. The sight of its 
danger made him forget himself and his assumed mad- 
ness ; he turned his team aside, and running forward 
seized Telemachus, and, kissing his laughing lips, 
handed him, with every show of gentleness, to the 
good nurse. 

“Ha, Odysseus!” cried Palamedes. “Thou canst 
not deceive us. Thou art no more mad than I am. 
Cease now that boyish play, and come and talk with us 
as becometh a hero.” 

Then Odysseus, seeing that he had been fairly out- 
witted by one as shrewd as himself, knew that further 
pretence of madness would avail him nothing. For a 


224 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


single moment his brow was clouded with anger, and he 
whispered hoarsely to Palamedes, “You shall have your 
reward for this !” 1 Then, leaving his* plough and his ill- 
matched team upon the beach, he took his two guests 
kindly by the hand, and led them into his palace. A 
great feast was spread upon the tables, and the morning 
was spent in eating and merry-making, and not a word 
was said concerning the great business which had 
brought the kings to Ithaca. 

Later in the day, however, Nestor told Odysseus the 
story of the perfidy of Paris. Then Palamedes followed 
with a speech so clear, so forcible, that the hearts of all 
who heard it were stirred to their very depths ; and 
Odysseus, rising from his seat, renewed the vow which 
he had made when Menelaus won fair Helen for his 
bride. And from that time to the very end, there was 
not a man among all the Hellenes, who threw himself 
more earnestly into the work than did Odysseus. 

For seven days Nestor and Palamedes tarried at 
Ithaca, talking with Odysseus, and making plans for the 
war against Troy. On the eighth day, the three heroes 
embarked for the mainland ; and for months they jour- 
neyed from country to country, and from city to city, 
reminding the princes of their vows, and stirring all 
Hellas into a flame. Soon the watch-fires were kindled 
on every mountain-top ; and every warrior in the land 
made haste to see that his arms were in order, and 
every seaman to put his ship to rights. And Ares, the 

1 See Note 13 at the end of this volume. 


An Unwilling Hero. 


225 


mighty god of battle, brandished his sword above the 
sea ; dread comets blazed red in mid-heaven ; glittering 
stars fell to the earth, or shot gleaming athwart the 
sky. Sounds of warlike preparation were heard, not 
only in the dwellings of men, but even in the halls of 
Zeus, upon the airy summit of Olympus. 


ADVENTURE XiX. 


HEROES IN STRANGE GARB. 

There dwelt at Mycenae a wise soothsayer, named 
Calchas, — a man versed in all the lore of earth and 
sky, and holding some sort of communion with the 
immortals. He could lift the veil of the future, and see 
what to other men lay hidden in the darkness ; and 
next to the Pythian oracle at Delphi, or the talking oak 
of Dodona, he was held in high repute as knowing the 
counsels of the gods. When all the great chiefs sat one 
day in Agamemnon’s hall, and talked of their warriors 
and their ships and their arms, and boasted of their 
readiness to sail at once for Ilios, the old soothsayer 
came and stood before them. His white locks streamed 
in flowing waves about his shoulders ; his gray eyes 
gleamed with a strange, wild light ; he moved his long 
arms to and fro above his head, and pointed with his 
thin fingers first towards the sky, and then towards 
the sea. 

“ Hearken ye to the seer,” said Menelaus ; “ he has 
had a vision, and perchance he can tell us how we shall 
fare in this great business which we have undertaken.” 


226 


Heroes in Strange Garb . 


227 


Then Calchas spoke and said, “Verily I know not 
any thing of this matter, save by the gift of sooth- 
saying which the far-darting Apollo has bestowed upon 
me. Yet when I inquired of him, this answer did he 
give : ‘ Let the long-haired Hellenes make war upon 
Troy. They shall not prevail against that city unless 
Achilles, the dear son of Thetis, lead them.’ Send 
now for him, and enlist him in your cause ; for other- 
wise you shall fail, and the Trojans shall boast of your 
ruin ! ” 

Having said these words, the seer strode from the 
hall, leaving the hero-chiefs alone. For a time they sat 
in silence, each pondering the matter in his own mind. 
Then Agamemnon spoke, and his words were full of 
anger and unbelief. “Never yet,” said he, “did Cal- 
chas prophesy any thing but ill. He sees naught but 
evil ; and when we feel most sure of success, then it is 
the joy of his heart to foretell failure. Now, after the 
gods have thus far favored us, and when all things are 
in readiness for the gathering together of our forces, 
this woful soothsayer comes to tell us that without 
Achilles we shall fail. For my part, I care little for his 
words, and am willing to run all risks.” 

“Say not so,” quickly answered Odysseus. “The 
old man speaks as Apollo gives him utterance ; and no 
man shall dare put his judgment in the scales against 
the foreknowledge of the gods. Let us seek Achilles 
at once, and persuade him to join us in our league 
against Ilios,” 


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A Story of the Golden Age . 


“ But who shall find him?" asked Menelaus. “Two 
months ago, I was in Iolcos by the sea, whither I had 
gone to see old Peleus. I found that that aged king 
dwelt no longer in the ancient city, but had removed 
into his own country of Phthia, and there abode among 
his Myrmidons. Into Phthia, therefore, I went, hoping 
to find Achilles also there. But old Peleus wept when 
I asked about his son. ‘ In truth, I know not where the 
young man is,’ he said, in answer to my questions. ‘ For 
when the news was noised about, that the chiefs of Hellas 
were planning war upon Troy, then silver-footed Thetis 
carried her son into some distant, unknown land, and 
hid him there. For the Fates have declared the doom 
of Achilles, that his days on earth shall be few but 
glorious ; and his mother feared, that, should he join in 
the great war, he would meet an untimely death. Thus, 
then, it is that I am bereft already of my only son ; for 
I know not whether I shall ever again behold him.’ In 
:his manner Peleus, the lord of horses, bewailed the 
absence of his son. And though in every city I sought 
news concerning the whereabouts of the young hero, 
I could learn nothing whatever. Even Patroclus, his 
bosom friend and comrade, wept for him as for one 
dead. I do not believe that he can be found in 
Hellas.” 

Then Nestor the wise arose and spoke. “It does 
not become us,” he said, “to doubt or dispute the words 
of Calchas the seer. Therefore we must find Achilles, 
and win him to our cause ; or, laying aside all thought 


Heroes in Strange Garb . 


229 


of war, we must humbly surrender to Paris the noblest 
treasure of our country, even beauteous Helen.” 

“Achilles can be found,” said Odysseus. “ I myself 
will seek him, and the moon shall not wane thrice ere I 
shall have found him. Let the best ship in Argos be 
put in readiness at once ; and let a crew of the most 
skilful oarsmen be chosen, and a good store of food be 
put into the hold. I will embark to-morrow, and you 
shall see me no more until I bring good news of 
Thetis’s godlike son.” 

So then Odysseus set sail on a long, uncertain voyage 
to the islands of the sea, in search of the hidden 
hero. Vainly did he visit Cythera, the lofty isle where 
Aphrodite first rose in all her beauty from the salt 
sea-foam ; he touched at Melos, rich in corn and wine ; 
he skirted Paros, known to all the world for its figs and 
its spotless marble ; he stopped for a month at sacred 
Delos, the birthplace of Apollo ; he explored well- 
watered Ophiussa, where serpents curse the ground, 
and grapes grow purple on the climbing vines ; he 
sought long time in Andros among the groves and in 
the temple sacred to ruddy-faced Dionysus : yet in none 
of these lands heard he any news of the godlike son of 
Peleus. Weary of their long and fruitless voyage, the 
comrades of Odysseus murmured sorely, and besought 
him to return to Mycenae, and give up the search. But 
he turned a deaf ear to their pleadings, and sailed away 
to Scyros, where old Lycomedes reigned. For the 
bright-eyed goddess Athend had whispered to him in 


230 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


a dream, and told him that in the court of Lycomedes 
he would find the hero for whom he sought. 

In a narrow inlet, hidden by trees and tall reeds, the 
ship was moored, while shrewd Odysseus went alone 
and unheralded to the palace of the king. He had laid 
aside his warrior’s gear, and was now attired in the 
guise of a wandering peddler, and loaded with a heavy 
pack of precious wares. And lo ! as he neared the high- 
built halls of Lycomedes, he came to a spacious garden 
just outside of the courtyard, and hard by the lofty gate. 
A green hedge ran round it on four sides, while within 
grew many tall trees laden with fruits and blossoms, — 
pear-trees, pomegranates, apple-trees, and olives. So 
well cared for were these trees, that they yielded fruit 
in every season of the year, nor ever failed, even in 
winter-time. Beyond these, all manner of garden-beds 
were planted, where flowers bloomed in never-ending 
freshness, — the dewy lotus, the crocus-flower, the pale 
hyacinth, violets, asphodels, and fair lilies. And in 
their midst, two springs of never-failing water gushed : 
one of them watered the garden and the fields beyond ; 
the other ran close by the threshold of the palace, and 
bubbled up in the market-square, where all the people 
came to fill their vessels . 1 

As Odysseus stood and gazed in rapt delight upon 
this scene of beauty, a party of happy maidens came 
through the courtyard, and stopped in the garden to 
pluck the fruits and flowers. Then on the open lawn, 

1 See Note 14 at the end of this volume. 


Heroes in Strange Garb. 


231 


they fell to playing ball ; and one among them sang a 
lightsome song as they tossed the missile to and fro, or 
danced with happy feet upon the smooth-mown sward. 
When they saw Odysseus standing in the path, they 
stopped their game, and stood silent in their places, 
scarce knowing whether to advance and greet the 
stranger kindly, or in girlish timidness to flee into the 
palace. The hero opened then his peddler’s pack, and 
held up to their delighted gaze a golden necklace set 
with amber beads. No further thought of flight had 
the maidens now. With eager yet hesitating feet, they 
came crowding around him, anxious to see what other 
thing of beauty he had brought with him. One by 
one, he showed them all his treasures, — ear-rings, 
bracelets of finest workmanship, clasps, buckles, head- 
bands, and golden hair-pins. These they took in their 
hands, and, passing them from one to another, eagerly 
debated the price. One only of the company, taller and 
nobler than the others, stood aloof, and seemed to care 
nothing for the rich and handsome ornaments. Odysseus 
noticed this, but shrewdly kept his counsels to himself. 

“A merchant like myself,” said he, “must needs 
have goods for all, — for the young as well as for the 
old, for the grave as well as for the gay, for the hero as 
well as for the lady. It is his duty no less than his 
delight to please.” 

With these words he laid before the maidens a 
sword with hilt most deftly carved, a dagger with long 
keen blade, and a helmet thickly inlaid with precious 


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gems. The one who had not cared to look at the 
trinkets now started quickly as if a trumpet had blown ; 
she took up the sword, and handled it like a warrior long 
used to weapons; she tested the edge of the dagger, 
and sounded the strength of the helmet. Odysseus had 
learned all that he wished to know. He thought no 
more of the ornaments, — the bracelets, the clasps, and 
the hair-pins, — but gave them to the maidens for any 
price that they chose to offer. When all were pleased 
and satisfied, he turned to that one still toying with the 
sword, and said sharply, — 

“ Achilles ! ” 

Had an earthquake shaken the isle of Scyros at that 
moment, Achilles would not have been more startled. 
For the tall, fair body, clad in a maiden’s robes, was 
none other than that long-sought hero. 

“Achilles,” again said Odysseus, “I know thee, and 
it is useless to struggle longer against thy destiny. Put 
off that unbecoming garb, and come with me. Thy 
countrymen need thee to aid them in waging bitter war 
against Troy.” 

Then he told to the listening hero the story of the 
great wrong which Paris had done, — the unbearable 
insult which he had put upon the folk of Hellas. No 
man ever used words more persuasive. When he had 
ended, Achilles took him by the hand, and said, 
“ Odysseus, truly do I know the destiny which is mine, 
and it behooves no man to struggle long against the 
doom which has been allotted to him. For the gods 


Heroes in Strange Garb. 


233 


ordain that man should live in pain, while they them- 
selves are sorrowless. You have heard it said, how on 
the threshold of Zeus there stand two caskets full of 
gifts to men. One casket holds the evil, and one the 
good ; and to whomsoever is dealt a mingled lot, upon 
him misfortunes sometimes fall, and sometimes bless- 
ings. So it is with me and with my father’s house. 
For upon Peleus were bestowed rich gifts, even from 
his birth, and he excelled all other men in good fortune 
and in wealth ; and he was king over the Myrmidons ; 
and to him was given a sea-nymph for a wife, even 
Thetis, my goddess-mother. Yet, with all the good, 
sorrow has come upon him in his old age ; for in his 
halls there are no kingly sons to gladden his heart, and 
hold up his hands . 1 I am his only son, and of me it has 
been written that I am doomed to an untimely death ; 
and it was for this that silver-footed Thetis brought me 
hither across the sea, and, clothing me in maidenly 
attire, left me to serve in Lycomedes’ pleasant halls. 
But I tire of life like this. I would rather die to- 
morrow, a hero in some grand struggle, than live a 
hundred years among these soft delights. I will sail 
with you at once for Phthia, where my father sits, 
already bereaved, in his spacious halls. There I will 
summon my Myrmidons, and my best-loved friend 
Patroclus ; and then with eager hearts we will hasten to 
join our countrymen in war against the Trojan power.” 


See Note 15 at the end of this volume. 


234 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


Thus, then, did Odysseus perform his quest, and thus 
the last and greatest ally was won to the Hellenic 
cause. And yet the war was long delayed. Many 
times did the moon wax and wane ; and seed-time and 
harvest, and fruit-gathering, and the storms of winter, 
came again and again in their turn, — and still the 
heroes were unready to join their forces and enter upon 
the mighty struggle. 

At length, however, after nearly ten years had passed, 
all the princes and warriors of Hellas gathered their 
ships and men together at Aulis, and along the shores 
of the Euripus. A thousand dark-hulled vessels were 
moored in the strait ; and a hundred thousand brave 
men were on board, ready to follow their leaders 
whithersoever they should order. 

Chief of all that host was mighty Agamemnon, king 
of men, bearing the sceptre of Mycenae, which He- 
phaestus, long before, had wrought most wondrously. 
He was clad in flashing armor, and his mind was filled 
with overweening pride when he thought how high he 
stood among the warriors, and that his men were the 
goodliest and bravest of all that host. 

Next to him was Menelaus, silent and discreet, by no 
means skilled above his fellows, and yet, by reason of 
his noble heart, beloved and honored by all the Greeks ; 
and it was to avenge his wrongs that this mighty array 
of men and ships had been gathered together. 

Odysseus came next, shrewd in counsels, and no 
longer an unwilling hero ; but, earnest and active, he 


Heroes in Strange Garb. 


235 


moved among the men and ships, inspiring all with zeal 
and courage. He wore upon his shoulders a thick 
purple mantle, clasped with a golden brooch of curious 
workmanship, which Penelope had given to him as a 
parting gift. Around his waist was a shining tunic, 
soft and smooth, and bright as the sunshine. With 
him, wherever he went, was his herald and armor- 
bearer, Eurybates, — a hunchbacked, brown-skinned, 
curly-haired man, whom Odysseus held in high esteem 
because of his rare good sense. 

There, also, was young Achilles, tall and handsome, 
and swift of foot. His long hair fell about his shoulders 
like a shower of gold, and his gray eyes gleamed like 
those of the mountain eagle. By the shore lay his trim 
ships — fifty in all — with thousands of gallant Myrmi- 
dons on board. And ever at his side was his bosom 
friend and comrade, Patroclus, the son of Menoitios. 
He it was to whom old Peleus had said when they were 
about embarking for Aulis, “ Thou art older than my 
child Achilles, but he is nobler born and mightier far 
in warlike deeds. But thou art wise and prudent ; 
therefore, do thou speak gentle words of warning to 
him, and show him what is best to do : he will hearken 
to thy words spoken for his good.” 

There also was Ajax, the valiant son of Telamon, 
huge in body and slow in speech, but, next to Achilles, 
the bravest of all the host. And the other Ajax, clad 
in his linen corslet, and master of forty ships from 
Locris, moved also among the mightiest of the heroes. 


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There, too, was Nestor, the aged king of Pylos, rich 
in wisdom and experience, and skilled in persuasive 
speech. With him was his son Antilochus, the quon- 
dam suitor of fair Helen, a warrior worthy of such a 
sire. 

And there was Idomeneus, the stalwart chief who 
ruled the hundred cities of Crete, and was the sworn 
friend of Menelaus. And there was Philoctetes, the 
cunning archer, carrying the great bow which had been 
given him for his last sad act of friendship to his 
master, Heracles. And there was Diomede, of the 
loud war-cry, wearing the skin of a great fiery lion 
round his shoulders, and marshalling the warriors who 
had come with him from Argos, and Tiryns of the 
mighty walls. And there, too, among so many others 
of far greater worth, was Nireus of Syma, his well-oiled 
locks as neatly curled, and his linen as spotlessly white, 
as when in youth he had sued for Helen’s hand in the 
court of old Tyndareus. 

Now when the day had come for the fleet to sail, the 
chiefs stood upon the shore, and offered solemn sacri- 
fices to Poseidon, and prayed the gods to prosper them 
in their undertaking and bring them safe again to their 
loved homes in Hellas. While they were burning the 
choicest bits of fat and flesh, behold, a strange thing 
happened ! From a crevice in the rocks a shining ser- 
pent, with glittering cold eyes and forked tongue, came 
creeping silently into the sunlight. The heroes gazed 
upon it with wonder in their faces, for they knew that 


Heroes in Strange Garb. 


237 


it was sent as a sign to them. Not far away stood a 
plane-tree, green with foliage, in which a bird had built 
her nest ; and in the nest were nine tiny fledglings, 
tenderly cared for by the mother-bird. Straight to this 
tree the serpent crept ; it twined around the trunk, and 
stealthily climbed to the nest ; it seized the helpless 
little ones in its fangs, and devoured them ; then it 
darted upon the distressed mother-bird, and destroyed 
her most pitilessly. But now a gleam of lightning 
flashed across the sky, and a peal of thunder shook the 
earth and sea. When the astonished chiefs looked up 
again, behold, the serpent had been turned into stone. 

“ Call Calchas the seer, and let him tell us what this 
portends ! ” they cried. 

Then Calchas, his long hair streaming in the wind, 
his wild eyes rolling in awe, his gaunt arms waving to 
and fro above his head, came and looked upon the 
wonder. 

“ Ye men of Hellas ! ” he cried, “ I will tell you what 
this portends. As there were nine birds in the nest, ye 
shall war nine years against Troy, and shall not prevail ; 
but, even as the serpent destroyed the mother-bird, so 
in the tenth year shall the city and its god-built walls 
fall into your hands.” 


ADVENTURE XX. 


BECALMED AT AULIS. 

A pleasant wind from the west sprang up, and 
drove the great fleet out into the sea. Not a single 
one of the thousand ships was lost or left behind ; 
and after a quick and happy voyage, they came in 
sight of a fruitful land and a great city with high 
towers and pleasant dwellings. 

“The gods have favored us, even beyond what we 
asked ! ” cried the Hellenes. 

Achilles and his Myrmidons landed first, and with- 
out waiting for the other ships to come up, they rushed 
across the plain, and began an assault upon the town. 
Like a swarm of locusts lighting down upon a field 
of grain, and consuming every thing before them, so 
came the destroying Hellenes. The gates were broken 
down ; the astonished people fled in dismay, and sought 
safety among the hills and in the forest on the other 
side of the town. Not until many houses had been 
burned, and many people slain, did Odysseus and 
Menelaus, whose ships had been delayed, reach the 
place. 


Becalmed at Aulis. 


239 


“ Men of Hellas ! ” they cried, hastening into the 
midst of the carnage. “ What is this you are doing ? 
This is not Troy. It is the peaceful city of Teuthrania 
in Mysia. Cease your slaughter, and return at once 
to your vessels, lest the wrath of the gods fall upon 
you.” 

The word was carried from mouth to mouth; and 
the hasty heroes, crestfallen and ashamed, stopped 
their bloody work, and turned their faces back towards 
the shore where their ships lay beached. None too 
soon did they retreat ; for the king of Mysia, one 
Telephus a son of Heracles, having quickly called his 
warriors together, fell upon their rear, and slew great 
numbers of them, following them even to the sloping 
beach. As the last ship was pushing out, an arrow 
from the bow of King Telephus struck Patroclus, 
wounding him sorely. Then Achilles, poising his long 
spear, threw it with deadly aim among the Mysians ; 
it struck King Telephus, and laid him senseless though 
not slain upon the sandy plain. 

No sooner had the fleet set sail again upon the sea, 
than Poseidon stirred up the waves in anger, and 
loosed the winds upon them. Great was the terror, 
and great indeed was the destruction. Some of the 
ships were sunk in mid-sea, and some were driven 
upon the rocks and wrecked. But the greater number 
of them, after days and weeks of buffeting with the 
waves, made their way back to Aulis. 

When the heroes stood again on the shores of the 


240 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


Euripus, they began to think that doubtless there was 
some truth in the omen of the snake and the birds ; 
and the most hopeful among them ceased to dream 
of taking Troy in a day. While waiting for stragglers 
to come in, and for the shattered vessels to be repaired, 
they found enough to do to keep the time from drag- 
ging heavily ; and when not engaged in some kind of 
labor they amused themselves with various games, 
and great sport had they with quoits and javelins, 
with bows and arrows, and in wrestling and running. 
And now and then they went out into the woods of 
Euboea, and hunted the wild deer which roamed there 
in abundance. 

One day it chanced that Agamemnon, while hunting, 
started a fine stag, and gave it a long chase among the 
hills, and through the wooded dells, until it sought 
safety in a grove sacred to Artemis the huntress queen. 
The proud king knew that this was a holy place where 
beasts and birds might rest secure from harm ; yet 
he cared naught for what Artemis had ordained, and 
with his swift arrows he slew the panting deer. Then 
was the huntress queen moved with anger, and she 
declared that the ships of the Hellenes should not sail 
from Aulis until the king had atoned for his crime. 
And a great calm rested upon the sea, and not a 
breath of air stirred the sails at the mast-heads of the 
ships. Day after day and week after week went by, 
and not a speck of cloud was seen in the sky above, 
and not a ripple on the glassy face of the deep. All 


Becalmed at Aulis . 


241 


the ships had been put in order, new vessels had been 
built, the warriors had burnished their armor and over- 
hauled their arms a thousand times ; and yet no breeze 
arose to waft them across the sea. And they began 
to murmur, and to talk bitterly against Agamemnon 
and the chiefs. 

In the mean while, a small vessel driven by rowers 
came up the Euripus, and stopped among the ships at 
Aulis. On board of it was King Telephus of Mysia, 
sorely suffering from the wound which Achilles had 
given him on the Teuthranian beach. He had come to 
seek the hero who had wounded him, for an oracle had 
told him that he only could heal the grievous hurt. 
Achilles carried the sufferer to his tent, and skilfully 
dressed the wound, and bound it up with healing herbs ; 
for in his boyhood he had learned from wise old Cheiron 
how to treat such ailments, and now that knowledge 
was of great use to him. And soon the king was 
whole and strong again ; and he vowed that he would 
not leave Achilles, but would stay with the Hellenes, 
and pilot them across the sea to Troy. Yet the wrath 
of Artemis continued, and not the slightest breeze 
arose to cool the air, or fill the waiting sails of the 
ships. 

At last Agamemnon sent for Calchas the soothsayer, 
and asked him in secret how the anger of the huntress 
queen might be assuaged. And the soothsayer with 
tears and lamentations answered that in no wise could 
it be done save by the sacrifice to Artemis of his 


242 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


maiden daughter Iphigenia. Then the king cried 
aloud in his grief, and declared that though Troy might 
stand forever, he would not do that thing ; and he bade 
a herald go through the camp, and among the ships, 
and bid every man depart as he chose to his own coun- 
try. But before the herald had gone from his tent, 
behold his brother Menelaus, the wronged husband of 
fair Helen, stood before him with downcast eyes and 
saddest of hearts. 

“After ten years of labor and hope,” said he to 
Agamemnon, “wouldst thou give up this enterprise, 
and lose all ? ” 

Then Odysseus came also into the tent, and added 
his persuasions to those of Menelaus. And the king 
hearkened to him, for no man was more crafty in coun- 
sel ; and the three recalled the herald, and formed a 
plan whereby they might please Artemis by doing as 
she desired. And Agamemnon, in his weakness, wrote 
a letter to Clytemnestra his queen, telling her to bring 
the maiden Iphigenia to Aulis, there to be wedded to 
King Achilles. “ Fail not in this,” added he, “for the 
godlike hero will not sail with us unless my daughter be 
given to him in marriage .” And when he had written 
the letter, he sealed it, and sent it by a swift mes- 
senger to Clytemnestra at Mycenae. 

Nevertheless the king’s heart was full of sorrow, and 
when he was alone he planned how he might yet save 
his daughter. Night came, but he could not sleep ; he 
walked the floor of his tent ; he wept and lamented like 





ODYSSEUS AND MENELAUS PERSUADING AGAMEMNON TO SACRIFICE IPHIGENIA 














































- 

























































• 

. 




• 

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Becalmed at Aulis. 


2 43 


one bereft of reason. At length he sat down, and 
wrote another letter : “ Daughter of Leda, send not thy 
child to Aulis, for I will give her in marriage at another 
time.” Then he called another messenger, an old and 
trusted servant of the household, and put this letter 
into his hands. 

“Take this with all haste to my queen, who, per- 
chance, is even now on her way to Aulis. Stop not by 
any cool spring in the groves, and let not thine eyes 
close for sleep. And see that the chariot bearing the 
queen and Iphigenia pass thee not unnoticed.” 

The messenger took the letter, and hasted away. 
But hardly had he passed the line of the tents when 
Menelaus saw him, and took the letter from him. And 
when he had read it, he went before his brother, and 
reproached him with bitter words. 

“ Before you were chosen captain of the host,” said 
he, “ you were kind and gentle, and the friend of every 
man. There was nothing that you would not do to aid 
your fellows. Now you are puffed up with pride and 
vain conceit, and care nothing even for those who are 
your equals in power. Yet, for all, you are not rid of 
your well-known cowardice ; and when you saw that your 
leadership was likely to be taken away from you unjess 
you obeyed the commands of Artemis, you agreed to 
do this thing. Now you are trying to break your word, 
sending secretly to your wife, and bidding her not to 
bring her daughter to Aulis.” 

Then Agamemnon answered, “Why should I de- 


244 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


stroy my daughter in order to win back thy wife ? Let 
the suitors who swore an oath to King Tyndareus go 
with thee. In what way am I bound to serve thee ? ” 

“ Do as you will,” said Menelaus, going away in 
wrath. 

Soon after this, there came a herald to the king, 
saying, “ Behold, your daughter Iphigenia has come as 
you directed, and with her mother and her little brother 
Orestes she rests by the spring close to the outer line 
of tents. And the warriors have gathered around them, 
and are praising her loveliness, and asking many ques- 
tions ; and some say, ‘ The king is sick to see his 
daughter whom he loves so deeply, and he has made up 
some excuse to bring her to the camp.’ But I know 
why you have brought her here ; for I have been told 
about the wedding, and the noble groom who is to 
lead her in marriage ; and we will rejoice and be glad, 
because this is a happy day for the maiden.” 

Then the king was sorely distressed, and knew not 
what to do. “Sad, sad indeed,” said he, “is the 
wedding to which the maiden cometh. For the name 
of the bridegroom is Death.” 

At the same time Menelaus came back, sorrowful 
and repentant. “You were right, my brother,” said 
he. “ What, indeed, has Iphigenia to do with Helen, 
and why should the maiden die for me ? Send the 
Hellenes to their homes, and let not this great wrong 
be done.” 

“ But how can I do that now ? ” asked Agamemnon. 


Becalmed at Aults. 


245 


“ The warriors, urged on by Odysseus and Calchas, 
will force me to do the deed. Or, if I flee to Mycense, 
they will follow me, and slay me, and destroy my city. 
Oh, woe am I, that such a day should ever dawn upon 
my sight ! ” 

Even while they spoke together, the queen’s chariot 
drove up to the tent door, and the queen and Iphigenia 
and the little Orestes alighted quickly, and merrily 
greeted the king. 

“ It is well that you have sent for me, my father,” 
said Iphigenia, caressing him. 

“ It may be well, and yet it may not,” said Agamem- 
non. “ I am exceeding glad to see thee alive and 
happy.” 

“ If you are glad, why then do you weep ? ” 

“ I am sad because thou wilt be so long time away 
from me.” 

“ Are you going on a very long voyage, father ? ” 

“ A long voyage and a sad one, my child. And thou, 
also, hast a journey to make.” 

“ Must I make it alone, or will my mother go with 
me ? ” 

“Thou must make it alone. Neither father nor 
mother nor any friend can go with thee, my child.” 

“ But when shall it be ? I pray that you will hasten 
this matter with Troy, and return home ere then.” 

“ It may be so. But I must offer a sacrifice to the 
gods, before we sail from Aulis.” 

“ That is well. And may I be present ? ” 


246 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


“Yes, and thou shalt be very close to the altar.” 

“Shall I lead in the dances, father?” 

Then the king could say no more, for reason of the 
great sorrow within him ; and he kissed the maiden, 
and sent her into the tent. A little while afterward, 
the queen came and spoke to him, and asked him about 
the man to whom their daughter was to be wedded ; 
and Agamemnon, still dissembling, told her that the 
hero’s name was Achilles, and that he was the son' of 
old Peleus and the sea-nymph Thetis. 

“ And when and where is the marriage to be ? ” 
asked the queen. 

“ On the first lucky day in the present moon, and 
here in our camp at Aulis,” answered Agamemnon. 

“ Shall I stay here with thee until then ? ” 

“Nay, thou must go back to Mycenae without delay.” 

“ But may I not come again ? If I am not here, who 
will hold up the torch for the bride ? ” 

“ I will attend to all such matters,” answered Aga- 
memnon. 

But Clytemnestra was not well pleased, neither 
could the king persuade her at all that she should 
return to Mycenae. While yet they were talking, 
Achilles himself came to the tent-door, and said aloud 
to the servant who kept it, “Tell thy master that 
Achilles, the son of Peleus, would be pleased to see 
him.” 

When Clytemnestra overheard these words, she 
hastened to the door, and offered the hero her hand. 


Becalmed at Aulis. 


247 


But he was ashamed and drew back, for it was deemed 
an unseemly thing for men to speak thus with women. 
Then Clytemnestra said, “Why, indeed, should you, 
who are about to marry my daughter, be ashamed to 
give me your hand ? ” 

Achilles was struck with wonder, and asked her 
what she meant ; and when she had explained the 
matter, he said, — 

“Truly I have never been a suitor for thy daughter, 
neither has Agamemnon or Menelaus spoken a word 
to me regarding her.” 

And now the queen was astonished in her turn, and 
cried out with shame that she had been so cruelly 
deceived. Then the keeper of the door, who was the 
same that had been sent with the letter, came forward 
and told the truth regarding the whole matter. And 
Clytemnestra cried to Achilles, “O son of the silver- 
footed Thetis ! Help me and help my daughter Iphi- 
genia, in this time of sorest need ! For we have no 
friend in all this host, and none in whom we can con- 
fide but thee.” 

Achilles answered, “Long time ago I was a pupil 
of old Cheiron the most righteous of men, and from 
him I learned to be honest and true. If Agamemnon 
rule according to right, then I will obey him ; but not 
otherwise. And now since thy daughter was brought 
to this place under pretence of giving her to me as 
my bride, I will see that she shall not be slain, neither 
shall any one dare take her from me.” 


248 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


On the following day, while Agamemnon sat grief- 
stricken in his tent, the maiden came before him 
carrying the babe Orestes in her arms ; and she cast 
herself upon her knees at his feet, and caressing his 
hands, she thus besought him: “Would, dear father, 
that I had the voice of Orpheus, to whom even 
the rocks did listen ! then I would persuade thee. 
O father! I am thy child. I was the first to call 
thee ‘Father,’ and the first to whom thou saidst ‘My 
child.’ ” 

The father turned his face away, and wept ; he could 
not speak for sadness. Then the maiden went on : 
“ O, father, hear me ! thou to whom my voice was 
once so sweet that thou wouldst waken me to hear 
my prattle amid the songs of birds when it was mean- 
ingless as theirs. And when I was older grown, then 
thou wouldst say to me, ‘ Some day, my birdling, thou 
shalt have a nest of thy own, a home of which 
thou shalt be the mistress.’ And I did answer, ‘Yes, 
dear father, and when thou art old I will care for 
thee, and pay thee with all my heart for the kindness 
thou dost show me.’ But now thou hast forgotten it 
all, and art ready to slay my young life.” 

A deep groan burst from the lips of the mighty 
king, but he spoke not a word. Then after a death- 
like silence broken only by the deep breathings of 
father and child, Iphigenia spoke again : “ My father, 
can there be any prayer more pure and more persua- 
sive than that of a maiden for her father’s welfare? 


Becalmed at Aulis. 


249 


and when the cruel knife shall strike me down, thou 
wilt have one daughter less to pray for thee.” A 
shudder shook the frame of Agamemnon, but he an- 
swered not a word. 

At that moment Achilles entered. He had come 
in haste from the tents beside the shore, and he 
spoke in hurried, anxious accents. 

“ Behold,” said he, “a great tumult has arisen in 
the camp ; for Calchas has given out among the men 
that you refuse to do what Artemis has bidden, and 
that hence these delays and troubles have arisen. 
And the rude soldiers are crying out against you, and 
declaring that the maiden must die. When I would 
have stayed their anger, they took up stones to stone 
me, — my own Myrmidons among the rest. And now 
they are making ready to move upon your tent, threat- 
ening to sacrifice you also with your daughter. But 
I will fight for you to the utmost, and the maiden 
shall not die.” 

As he was speaking, Calchas entered, and, grasping 
the wrist of the pleading maiden, lifted her to her 
feet. She looked up, and saw his stony face and 
hard cold eyes ; and turning again to Agamemnon, she 
said, “ O father, the ships shall sail, for I will die for 
thee.” 

Then Achilles said to her, “ Fair maiden, thou art 
by far the noblest and most lovely of thy sex. Fain 
would I save thee from this fate, even though every 
man in Hellas be against me. Fly with me quickly to 


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my long-oared galley, and I will carry thee safely away 
from this accursed place.” 

“ Not so,” answered Iphigenia : “ I will give up my 
life for my father and this land of the Hellenes, and 
no man shall suffer for me.” 

And the pitiless priest led her through the throng 
of rude soldiers, to the grove of Artemis, wherein an 
altar had been built. But Achilles and Agamemnon 
covered their faces with their mantles, and staid in- 
side the tent. Then Talthybius the herald stood up, 
and bade the warriors keep silence ; and Calchas put a 
garland of sweet-smelling flowers about the victim’s 
head. 

“ Let no man touch me,” said the maiden, “ for I 
offer my neck to the sword with right good will, that 
so my father may live and prosper.” 

In silence and great awe, the warriors stood around, 
while Calchas drew a sharp knife from its scabbard. 
But, lo ! as he struck, the maiden was not there ; and 
in her stead, a noble deer lay dying on the altar. Then 
the old soothsayer cried out in triumphant tones, “ See 
now, ye men of Hellas, how the gods have provided for 
you a sacrifice, and saved the innocent daughter of the 
king!” And all the people shouted with joy ; and in 
that self-same hour, a strong breeze came down the 
Euripus, and filled the idle sails of the waiting ships. 

“ To Troy ! to Troy ! ” cried the Hellenes ; and every 
man hastened aboard his vessel. 

How it was that fair Iphigenia escaped the knife ; 


Becalmed at Aulis. 


251 


by whom she was saved, or whither she went, — no one 
knew. Some say that Artemis carried her away to the 
land of the Taurians, where she had a temple and an 
altar; and that, long years afterward, her brother 
Orestes found her there, and bore her back to her girl- 
hood’s home, even to Mycenae. But whether this be 
true or not, I know that there have been maidens as 
noble, as loving, as innocent as she, who have given up 
their lives in order to make this world a purer and 
happier place in which to live ; and these are not dead, 
but live in the grateful memories of those whom they 
loved and saved. 


ADVENTURE XXL 


THE LONG SIEGE. 

The great fleet sailed once more across the sea, 
piloted now by Telephus, the king of Mysia; and the 
ships of Achilles and those of Philoctetes of Meliboea 
led all the rest. When they had put a little more than 
half the distance behind them, they came to the isle 
of Chryse, where were a fair temple and altars built in 
honor of Athene. Here many of the heroes landed ; 
and while some were busied in refilling the water- 
casks from the springs of fresh water near the shore, 
others went up to the temple and offered gifts and heart- 
felt thanks to Pallas Athene. But as Philoctetes, the 
cunning archer, stood near one of the altars, a water- 
snake came out of the rocks and bit him on the foot. 
Terrible, indeed, was the wound, and great were the 
hero’s sufferings ; day and night he groaned and cried 
aloud by reason of the bitter pain ; and there was no 
physician that could heal him of the grievous hurt. 
In a few days, a noisome stench began to issue from 
the wound, and the hero’s complainings waxed so loud 
and piteous that the warriors stopped their ears, so 

25a 


The Long Siege. 


253 


that they might not hear them. Then the chiefs took 
counsel as to what it were best to do with him ; and, 
although some advised that he be cast into the sea, 
it was thought best to follow a milder course, and leave 
him alone on the isle of Lemnos. Hence, while the 
hero slept, Odysseus and his men carried him on shore ; 
and they laid his great bow, even the bow of Heracles, 
by his side upon the sand, and put a cask of water and 
a basket of food within easy reach of his hand. Then 
they sailed away, and left him alone in his great dis- 
tress and sorrow. 

At length the shores of Ilios were reached, and the 
high towers of Troy were seen. Then the sails of the 
vessels were furled and laid away in the roomy holds, 
the masts were lowered with speed, and the oarsmen 
seated themselves upon the benches and rowed the 
ships forward until they stood in one line, stretching 
more than a league along the shore. But as they drew 
nearer the sea-beach, the heroes saw all the plain 
before them covered with armed men, and horses and 
chariots drawn up to hinder their landing. And they 
paused, uncertain what to do ; for Calchas the sooth- 
sayer had declared that he who should first step foot 
upon the shores of Ilios should meet a sudden death. 

“ Who among all the heroes will dare be the first 
to die for Hellas?” was the anxious question heard 
on every vessel. Not a man was there who was not 
willing and ready to be the second one to step on 
sho're ; but who would be the first ? The Trojan host 


254 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


now began to shoot their arrows toward the ships, 
and to taunt the Hellenes with cowardice. Yet even 
Achilles and Ajax Telamon, the mightiest of the 
heroes, fell back and would not take the fearful risk 
of beginning the fight. Then Protesilaus, who had led 
forty black ships from Phylace and the shore of An- 
trona, seeing that some one must die for the cause, 
leaped boldly out of the ship upon the shelving beach. 
At once a hundred arrows whistled through the air, and 
glanced from his sevenfold shield of ox-hide ; and a 
heavy spear, thrown by Hector, the mightiest of the 
Trojans, pierced his fair armor, and laid him bleeding 
and dead upon the sand. Quickly the warriors leaped 
ashore ; face to face and hand to hand they fought with 
the Trojan host ; and led by Achilles and by Diomede 
of the loud war-cry, they drove their foes across the 
plain and even through the city gates. 

But Protesilaus lay dead upon the beach ; and few of 
the heroes remembered that to him they owed their 
victory. And when his newly-wedded wife, fair Laoda- 
mia, heard in far Phylace that he had fallen first in the 
fight, she dight herself in mourning and went to pray 
at the shrine of mighty Zeus. And the prayer which 
she offered was that she might see her husband once 
again, and holding his hand, might talk with him if it 
were only for the space of three hours. Then Hermes 
led the war-loving hero back to the upper world ; and 
he sat in his bridal chamber, and spoke sweet words of 
comfort to Laodamia. But when the short hours were 


2 55 


The Long Siege. 

past, and the messenger came to lead Protesilaus back 
to the land of shades, his wife prayed that she might 
return with him. And men say that this prayer, also, 
was heard, and that arm in arm the two went forth 
together to their shadowy home in Hades. 

Time would fail me to tell you how the Greeks en- 
camped upon the plain of Troy, and how for more than 
nine long years they laid siege to that great city. 
Neither can I speak of the ruinous wrath of Achilles 
which brought so much woe upon the Hellenes ; for of 
that you will read in the oldest and grandest poem that 
the world has ever known, — the Iliad of Homer. And 
there, also, you will read of the death of Patroclus ; 
and of the vengeance which Achilles wrought, even 
by the slaying of godlike Hector; and of the mighty 
deeds of Diomede and of Ajax and of Agamemnon on 
the plains of Troy; and of the shrewd counsels and 
crafty schemes of Odysseus, who, though in strength 
surpassing other men, learned to trust rather to his 
skill in words than to his mastery of arms. 

The time at length drew near when that which had 
been spoken concerning the doom of Achilles was to 
be fulfilled. For, when he saw that he, more than all 
the Hellenes, was held in dread by the Trojans, his 
heart was puffed up with unseemly pride, and he boasted 
of his deeds, and spoke of himself as greater even than 
Phoebus Apollo. Then the archer-god was greatly an- 
gered, and no longer covered him with his great shield 
of protection, but left him to his doom. Hence, on a 


256 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


jay, when he stood before the Scaean gate, and taunted 
the Trojans on the walls, a mighty spear smote him, and 
pierced his heart. Some say that the weapon was 
thrown by Paris, the perfidious one, who had caused 
this bloody war ; and others say that far-darting Apollo 
in his wrath launched the fatal bolt. The body of 
Achilles incased in his glorious armor lay all day long 
in the dust, while Hellenes and Trojans fought around 
it, and neither could gain the mastery, or carry away the 
ghastly prize. At length a great storm burst upon the 
combatants : the thunder rolled, the lightning flashed, 
the rain and hail fell in blinding torrents ; and the 
Trojans withdrew behind their walls. Then the Hel- 
lenes lifted the body of Achilles, and carried it to their 
ships ; and, stripping it of his matchless armor, they 
laid it on a couch, and standing around it, they be- 
wailed his untimely death. And his mother, silver- 
footed Thetis, came across the waves with all the 
sea-nymphs in her train ; and, while she wept over the 
body of her child, the nymphs arrayed it in shining 
robes which they themselves had woven in their coral 
caves. Then, after many days and nights of bitter lam- 
entation, the Hellenes built a great funeral pile upon 
the beach ; and they laid the hero thereon, and set fire 
to it, and the flames leaped high over the sea, and 
Achilles was no more. Then Thetis took the hero’s 
glorious armor, and set it up as a prize to that one who 
should excel in feats of strength and skill in a grand 
trial to be made beside the ships. Only two of all the 


The Long Siege . 


257 


host stood up for the trial, — Ajax Telamon and Odys- 
seus ; for no other man dared contend with either of 
these. Mighty indeed was the contest ; but in the 
end Odysseus prevailed, and the matchless armor was 
awarded him. Then, when Ajax knew that he had 
been beaten in the suit, — and beaten not more by 
honest strength and skill than by crafty guile, — he fell 
prone upon the earth, and his great mind lost its 
balance. And when he arose to his feet, he knew no 
longer his friends and comrades, nor did he remember 
any thing. But like a roaring wild beast, he rushed 
from the tents into the fields and pasture-lands ; and, 
seeing a flock of sheep browsing among the herbage, 
he fell upon them with his sword, and slaughtered great 
numbers of them, fancying that they were foemen seek- 
ing his life. Nor did any man dare say any thing to 
him, or try in any way to check him, or turn him aside 
from his mad freaks. When he grew tired, at length, 
of slaughtering the helpless beasts, he went down into 
a green dell, and fell upon his own sword. A great 
stream of blood gushed from the wound, and dyed the 
earth, and from it sprang a purple flower bearing upon 
its edges both the initials of his name and a sign of 
woe, the letters at. 

Then Odysseus bewailed his comrade’s unhappy 
death. “ Would that I had never prevailed, and won 
that prize ! ” he cried. “ So goodly a head hath the 
earth closed over, for the sake of these arms, even 
that of Ajax, who in beauty and in feats of war was of 


258 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


a mould far above all other men, save only peerless 
Achilles. What a tower of strength wert thou ! Long 
indeed shall it be ere Hellas shall see another like 
thee ! ” 1 

After this the Hellenes began to despair ; for many 
of their noblest heroes had perished. Who now should 
lead them on to victory? Surely not Patroclus, nor 
Achilles, nor Ajax. Bitter murmurings were heard 
among the ships, and the men declared that ere another 
moon should pass, they would embark and sail back to 
their loved homes, nor ask the leave of Agamemnon. 

At the foot of Mount Ida there stood a temple of 
Apollo, built by the Trojans while yet sweet Peace was 
smiling on the land. To that temple Helenus the wise 
soothsayer, one of Priam’s sons, was wont to go, steal- 
ing out from the city in the darkness of midnight, and 
returning ere the gray dawn of morning appeared. He 
went that he might learn from bright Apollo the secrets 
of the future, and he fondly hoped that his going was 
unknown to the foes of Troy. But shrewd Odysseus 
found him out ; and one night, with a band of men, he 
lay in wait for the prophet-prince, and took him captive. 

“ This is a rich treasure that we have taken,” said 
Odysseus, “and it shall repay us for all our losses.” 

Helenus was straightway taken to the camp. Around 
him gathered the heroes, — Agamemnon, Nestor, Mene- 
laus, and all the rest, — demanding that he should 
uncover the secrets of the future. 


1 See Note 16 at the end of this volume. 


259 


The Long Siege. 


“When and how shall the Hellenes overcome your 
city of Troy? ” said Odysseus. “Tell us this, and tell 
us truly, or death in its fearfullest form shall come 
upon thee swiftly.” 

Then the trembling seer revealed to his enemies that 
which he had learned at Apollo’s shrine. He told 
them that within the present year the Hellenes would 
certainly prevail if only they did three things, with- 
out which Troy could never be taken. First, the Pal- 
ladion, the monster image of Athene, must be removed 
from the temple in the city, and set up in the camp 
by the seashore. Second, young Pyrrhus the son of 
Achilles must be brought from his island-home of Scyros 
to take the place of his father at the head of the 
Myrmidon host. And third, Philoctetes, who had been 
so deeply wronged by the chiefs, and left to perish on 
the desert shores of Lemnos, must be found and brought 
to Troy, and healed of his grievous wound. 

“These are great tasks and heavy,” said Odysseus. 
“ Nevertheless I will undertake to see them performed.” 

Then he ordered a swift ship to be made ready ; and 
with old Phoinix as companion, and a score of trusted 
fighting-men, he went on board, and sailed at once for 
Scyros the quondam home of great Achilles. Ten days 
afterward they returned, bringing with them the lad 
Pyrrhus, so like his glorious father in face and figure 
that the Myrmidons hailed him at once as their chief 
and king. 

“Thus have I done one of the three tasks,” said 


26 o 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


Odysseus. “ I shall perform the other two, mayhap as 
easily, and then the high walls of Troy shall fall before 
us.” 

Three days later the swift ship of Odysseus again 
put to sea ; and young Pyrrhus was the hero’s comrade. 
It was but a short voyage to Lemnos ; and, when they 
reached that island, they moored their vessel in the 
sheltering cove close by the spot where, nine years 
before, the suffering Philoctetes had been left. Odys- 
seus concealed himself, and sent the young prince on 
shore with some of the warriors who had come with 
them ; for he rightly guessed that Philoctetes had not 
forgotten the wrong which he had suffered at his hands. 

Pyrrhus found the hero living alone in a wretched 
cave with no friend but the mighty bow of Heracles, 
and suffering still great torments from the horrid wound 
in his foot. Yet the prince could not prevail upon 
him to sail to Troy; for he said that he would rather 
endure the distress, the hunger, and the loneliness 
which were his in Lemnos, than meet again those false 
friends who had left him there to die. Then Odys- 
seus came forth from his hiding-place, with a company 
of men, to seize the hero, and carry him by force on 
board the vessel. But this the young prince would not 
permit ; and Philoctetes, when he saw them, fled mto 
the innermost parts of his cave, and would not come 
forth. When Odysseus found that neither threats nor 
entreaties would prevail upon the hero, he went back to 
his ship, and made ready to return to Troy. Then it 


The Long Siege. 


261 


was that a vision appeared to Philoctetes, — a vision of 
mighty Heracles clothed in bright raiment, and a great 
glory shining in his face. 

“Go thou to the land of Ilios,” said the vision. 
“There thou shalt first be healed of thy grievous sick- 
ness ; and afterwards thou shalt do great deeds, and 
shalt aid in taking the city ; and the first prize of valor 
shall be awarded to thee among all the heroes. For it 
is the will of the immortals that Troy shall be taken, 
and that my bow shall mightily aid in its overthrow.” 

Then Philoctetes went forth from his hiding-place, 
and was taken on board the vessel. And as the sails 
were spread, and the breezes wafted them towards the 
Trojan shore, he bade a tearful farewell to Lemnos, 
where he had spent so many years of loneliness and 
sorrow : — 

“Farewell to thee, O home that didst befriend me 
when others failed ! Farewell, ye nymphs that haunt 
the meadows and the shore, or dwell beside the gushing 
mountain springs. Farewell, O cave that oft hast been 
my shelter from the winter’s frosty winds and the 
sweltering rays of the summer’s sun. I leave you 
now ; and thou, O sea-girt Lemnos, I may never more 
behold ! And grant, ye gods, that favoring winds may 
blow, and carry me safely wheresoe’er the Fates would 
have me go ! ” 

As soon as the heroes reached the Trojan shore, and 
the ship was drawn to its place high on the beach, 
Philoctetes was carried to the tents, and given in 


262 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


charge of Machaon, Asclepius’ noble son. And as he 
lay upon a cot in the tent of the kind physician, a 
sweet odor, like that of blossoming orchards and the 
bloom of clover, filled the air around him, and he slept ; 
and men said that the spirit of Asclepius had fanned 
him into slumber. Then Machaon, with matchless skill, 
cut out the poisoned flesh from his foot, and cleansed 
it, and bound it up with soft linen. And when the 
hero awoke, the pain had left him ; and the wound 
from which he had suffered such untold torments 
began at once to heal. 

It chanced one day as Philoctetes was sitting outside 
of his tent, that a party of Trojans led by Paris made a 
sally from the city gates, and came scouring across the 
plain, intent on doing mischief to. the Hellenes. As the 
daring warriors drew near the tents, Philoctetes fitted 
an arrow to the great bow of Heracles, and took aim 
at their fair-faced leader. The deadly dart pierced the 
shoulder of Paris, and he fell headlong from his chariot ; 
and there he would have met his death, had not his 
comrades quickly rallied, and carried him, faint with 
pain, back to the city and his father’s halls. Terrible 
were the tortures which the hero suffered, for the 
arrow was one of those which Heracles had poisoned 
by dipping in the blood of the hydra. The venom sped 
through his burning veins ; his strength failed him ; 
the torments of a thousand deaths seemed to be upon 
him. Then he forgot fair Helen, for whose sake was 
all this war and bloodshed ; and he bethought him of 


The Long Siege. 


263 


gentle CEnone, whom, in the innocent days of youth, 
he had wooed and won in the pleasant dales of Ida. 
And he cried aloud, “ Bring to me CEnone, her whom I 
have so grievously wronged ! She alone can heal me 
of my hurt ! ” 

Then swift messengers were sent to the woody 
slopes of Ida, to find, if it might be, the long-deserted, 
long-forgotten wife. “ Come quickly and save thy err- 
ing but repentant husband,” — such was the message, 
— “ behold, he suffers from a grievous wound ! But 
thou art skilled in the healing art above all who dwell 
in Ilios ; and he prays that, forgiving all wrong, thou 
wilt hasten to help him.” 

When CEnone heard the message, she remembered 
the cruel wrongs which she had endured so long at the 
hands of faithless Paris ; and without a word in answer, 
she turned away and went about her daily tasks in her 
humble cottage home. Then the messengers returned 
to Troy, and told the prince that CEnone would not 
come to help him. And Paris, with a groan of pain 
and a sigh of despair, turned his face to the wall, and 
died. 

Then CEnone, too late, repented that she had turned 
a deaf ear to her husband’s last request. And in haste 
she clad herself in her wedding-robes, and came to 
the sad halls of the prince, not knowing that death had 
taken him. Fair and beautiful as in the days of her 
youth, she stood before his lifeless form. She took his 
cold hands in her warm palm, and said, “ I have come, 


264 


A Story of the Golden Age. 


O Paris ! Waken, and speak to me ! Dost thou not 
remember me, — CEnone, whom thou didst woo in the 
flowery dells of Ida ? I am still the same, and never 
have I wronged thee. Speak to me, O Paris ! ” Then 
she knelt beside him, and saw the gaping wound which 
the arrow of Philoctetes had made ; and she knew 
that life had fled, and that the hero never more would 
waken or speak to her. And the gentle heart of CEnone 
was broken with the anguish which came upon her ; 
and when the men of Troy laid Paris upon the funeral 
pile, and the smoke and flame arose towards heaven, 
the fair, perfidious prince was not alone, for CEnone 
shared his blazing couch. 

While Troy was in mourning for the unhappy death 
of Paris, Odysseus and Diomede were planning the 
means by which to obtain the sacred image of Athend 
— the Palladion of Troy. In the guise of a ragged 
beggar, Odysseus found his way into the city, and to 
the door of the temple where the great image stood. 

“ Ah, Odysseus ! I know thee despite thy rags ! ” 
was whispered into his ear, as a fair hand offered him a 
pittance. He looked up, and saw the peerless Helen 
before him, as beautiful as when, a score of years be- 
fore, the princes of Hellas had sued for her hand at 
the court of old Tyndareus. 

“Be not afraid,” she said, “I will not betray you.” 

And then she told him how unhappy she had been 
in Troy, and how she longed to return to her country- 
men and to her much-wronged husband Menelaus. And 


The Long Siege . 


265 


she promised to aid him in whatever way she could, to 
carry off the treasured Palladion, and to open the 
way for the overthrow of Troy. Odysseus, shrewdest 
of men, talked not long with the princess, but soon 
returned to the camp. Three nights later, he and 
Diomede made their way by stealth into the city, and 
carried away the priceless Palladion. 

And now the three tasks which Helenus had spoken 
of, had been performed. What more remained ere the 
doomed city should be overthrown ? The chiefs must 
needs again consult with shrewd Odysseus ; and the 
plan which he proposed was carried out. A wooden 
horse, of wondrous size, was made ; and in it the dough- 
tiest heroes of the host, with young Pyrrhus as their 
leader, hid themselves. Then the rest of the Hellenes 
embarked, with all their goods, aboard their ships, and 
sailed away beyond the wooded shores of Tenedos. 
But the monster horse, with its hidden load of heroes, 
stood alone upon the beach. 

When the Trojans, looking from their high towers, 
beheld their enemies depart, they were filled with joy ; 
and, opening wide their gates, they poured out of the 
city, and crowded across the plain, anxious to see 
the wonderful horse, — the only relic which their foes 
had left upon their shores. While they were gazing 
upon it, and hazarding many a guess at its purpose and 
use, a prisoner was brought before the chiefs. It was 
Sinon, a young Hellene, who had been found lurking 
among the rocks by the shore. Trembling with pre- 


266 


A Story of the Golden Age . 


tended fear, he told the Trojans a sad, false story, of 
wrongs which he said he had suffered at the hands 
of Odysseus. 

“ But what meaneth this monster image of a horse ? 
Tell us that,” said the Trojan chiefs. 

Then Sinon told them how the Hellenes had suffered 
great punishment at the hands of Athene, because they 
had stolen the sacred Palladion of Troy, and how it was 
on this account that they had at last given up the siege 
of Troy, and had sailed away for their homes in distant 
Hellas. And he told them, too, of the words of Calchas 
the soothsayer; that they should leave on the shores 
of Ilios an image which should serve the same pur- 
pose to those who honored it, as the sacred Palla- 
dion had served within the walls of Troy ; and that if 
the Trojans should revere this figure, and set it up 
within their walls, it would prove a tower of strength 
to them, insuring eternal greatness to Troy, and utter 
destruction to Hellas. 

Need I tell you how this artful story deceived the 
Trojans, and how with shouts of triumph they dragged 
the great image into the city ? Need I tell you how, 
in the darkness of the night, the fleet returned from 
Tenedos, and the mighty host again landed upon the 
Trojan shore; or how the heroes, concealed within 
the wooden horse, came out of their hiding-place, and 
opened the gates to their friends outside ; or how the 
Hellenes fell upon the astonished Trojans, awakened 
so suddenly from a false dream of peace ; or how, with 


The Long Siege . 


267 


sword and torch, they slew and burned, and meted out 
the doom of the fated city? It was thus that the 
princes of Hellas performed the oath which they had 
sworn, years and years before, in the halls of King 
Tyndareus ; and it was thus that the wrongs of Mene- 
laus were avenged, and fair Helen, the most beautiful 
of women, given back to her husband, and the honor of 
Hellas freed from blemish. 






THE AFTER WORD. 


And now, if you would learn more concerning the 
great heroes of the Golden Age, you must read the 
noble poems in which the story of their deeds is told. 
In the Iliad of Homer, oldest and grandest of all 
poems written by men, you will read of what befell 
the Greeks before the walls of Troy, — of the daring 
of Diomede ; of the wisdom of Nestor ; of the shrewd- 
ness of Odysseus ; of the foolish pride of Agamem- 
non ; of the nobility of Hector ; of the grief of old 
King Priam ; of the courage of Achilles. In the 
A£neid of Virgil, you will read of the last day of the 
long siege, and the fatal folly of the Trojans ; of crafty 
Sinon ; of the sad end of Laocoon, who dared suspect 
the object of the wooden horse ; of the destruction 
of the mighty city ; and of the wanderings of Aeneas 
and the remnant of the Trojans until they had founded 
a new city on the far Lavinian shore. In the tragedies 
of ALschylus, you will read of the return of the heroes 

269 


270 


The After Word. 


to Greece; of the sad death of Agamemnon in his 
own great banquet-hall ; of the wicked career of Cly- 
temnestra ; of the terrible vengeance of Orestes ; of 
what befell Iphigenia in Tauris, and how she returned 
to her native land. And in the Odyssey of Homer, 
second only to the Iliad in grandeur, you will read of 
the strange adventures of Odysseus ; how he, storm- 
tossed and wind-driven, strove for ten weary years to 
return to Ithaca; how, after the fall of Troy, — 

“He overcame the people of Ciconia ; how he passed 
thence to the rich fields of the race who feed upon the 
lotus ; what the Cyclops did, and how upon the Cyclops 
he avenged the death of his brave comrades, whom the 
wretch had piteously slaughtered and devoured ; and 
how he came to Aiolus, and found a friendly welcome, 
and was sent by him upon his voyage ; yet ’twas not 
his fate to reach his native land ; a tempest caught his 
fleet, and far across the fishy deep bore him away, 
lamenting bitterly. And how he landed at Telepylus, 
among the Lsestrigonians, who destroyed his ships 
and warlike comrades, he alone in his black ship 
escaping.” . . . 

You will read, too, of how he was driven to land 
upon the coast where Circe the sorceress dwelt, and 


271 


The After Word. 

how he shrewdly dealt with her deceit and many 
arts : — 

“ And how he went to Hades’ dismal realm in his good 
galley, to consult the soul of him of Thebes Tiresias, 
and beheld all his lost comrades and his mother, — her 
who brought him forth, and trained him when a child ; 
and how he heard the Sirens afterward, and how he 
came upon the wandering rocks, the terrible Charybdis, 
and the crags of Scylla, — which no man had ever 
passed in safety ; how his comrades slew for food the 
oxen of the Sun ; how mighty Zeus, the Thunderer, 
with a bolt of fire from heaven smote his swift bark ; 
and how, his gallant crew all perished, he alone escaped 
with life. And how he reached Ogygia’s isle, and met 
the nymph Calypso, who long time detained and fed 
him in her vaulted grot, and promised that he ne’er 
should die, nor know decay of age, through all the days 
to come ; yet moved she not the purpose of his heart. 
And how he next through many hardships came to the 
Phaeacians, and they welcomed him and honored him 
as if he were a god, and to his native country in a 
bark sent him with ample gifts of brass and gold and 
raiment” 

How he made himself known to old Eumaeus the 


272 


The After Word. 


swineherd, and to his son Telemachus, and how his 
old nurse, Eurycleia, knew him by the scar which he 
had received when a boy from the wild boar on Mount 
Parnassus. How he found his palace full of rude 
suitors seeking the hand of faithful Penelope ; and 
how, with the great bow of Eurytus, he slew them all, 
and spared not one. 

. . . “Never shall the fame 
Of his great valor perish ; and the gods 
Themselves shall frame, for those who dwell on earth, 

Sweet strains in praise of sage Penelope.” 


Notes. 


2 73 


NOTES. 


Note i. — Odysseus and his Nurse. Page 12. 

In the Odyssey, Book I., lines 425-444, a similar incident is 
related concerning Telemachus and Eurycleia. Many of the illus- 
trations of life and manners given in this volume have been taken, 
with slight changes, from Homer. It has not been thought neces- 
sary to make distinct mention of such passages. The student of 
Homer will readily recognize them. 

Note 2. —Apollo and the Python. Page 43. 

Readers of the “Story of Siegfried” cannot fail to notice the 
resemblance of the legends relating to that hero, to some of 
the myths of Apollo. Siegfried, like Apollo, was the bright being 
whose presence dispelled the mists and the gloom of darkness. 
He dwelt for a time in a mysterious but blessed region far to the 
north. He was beneficent and kind to his friends, terrible to his 
foes. Apollo’s favorite weapons were his silver bow and silent 
arrows ; Siegfried’s main dependence was in his sun-bright armor 
and his wonderful sword Balmung. Apollo slew the Python, and 
left it lying to enrich the earth ; Siegfried slew Fafnir the dragon, 
and seized its treasures for his own. — See The Story of Siegfried. 

Note 3. — Sisyphus. Page 50. 

“ Yea, and I beheld Sisyphus in strong torment, grasping a 
monstrous stone with both his hands. He was pressing thereat 


Notes. 


274 


with hands and feet, and trying to roll the stone upward toward the 
brow of the hill. But oft as he was about to hurl it over the top, 
the weight would drive him back : so once again to the plain rolled 
the stone, the shameless thing. And he once more kept heaving 
and straining; and the sweat the while was pouring down his 
limbs, and the dust rose upwards from his head.” — Homer's 
Odyssey , XI. 595. 

Note 4. —A Son of Hermes. Page 50. 

Autolycus was said to have been a son of Hermes, doubtless on 
account of his shrewdness and his reputation for thievery. Hermes 
is sometimes spoken of as the god of thieves. 

Note 5. — The Choice of Heracles. Page 61. 

This moral lesson is, of course, of much later date than that of 
our story. It is the invention of the Greek sophist Prodicus, who 
was a contemporary of Socrates. 

Note 6. — Meleager. Page 68. 

Readers of the “ Story of Roland ” will readily recognize several 
points of resemblance between the legend of Meleager’s childhood 
and the story of Ogier the Dane. It is, indeed, probable that very 
much of the latter is simply a mediaeval adaptation of the former. — 
See also the account of the three Noras in The Story of Siegfried. 

Note 7. —The Death of Asclepius. Page 91. 

The story of Balder, as related in the Norse mythology, has 
many points of resemblance to that of Asclepius. Balder, although 
a being of a higher grade than Asclepius, was the friend and bene- 
factor of mankind. He was slain through the jealousy of the evil 
one : his death was bewailed by all living beings, birds, beasts, 
trees, and plants. — See The Story of Siegfried. 


Notes . 


275 


Note 8. — Paris and CEnone. Page 109. 

A very beautiful version of this story is to be found in Tennyson’s 
poem entitled “ CEnone.” It will well repay reading. 

Note 9. — The Swineherd’s Story. Page 119. 

This story was afterwards related to Odysseus under very 
different circumstances. The curious reader is referred to the 
Odyssey, Book XV., 390-485. 

Note 10. — Prayers. Page 129. 

"The gods themselves are placable, though far 
Above us all in honor and in power 
And virtue. We propitiate them with vows, 

Incense, libations, and burnt-offerings, 

And prayers for those who have offended. Prayers 
Are daughters of almighty Jupiter, — 

Lame, wrinkled, and squint-eyed, — that painfully 
Follow Misfortune’s steps ; but strong of limb 
And swift of foot Misfortune is, and, far 
Outstripping all, comes first to every land, 

And there wreaks evil on mankind, which Prayers 
Do afterwards redress. Whoe’er receives 
Jove’s daughters reverently when they approach, 

Him willingly they aid, and to his suit 
They listen. Whosoever puts them by 
With obstinate denial, they appeal 
To Jove, the son of Saturn, and entreat 
That he will cause Misfortune to attend 
The offender’s way in life, that he in turn 
May suffer evil, and be punished thus.” 

The Iliad (Bryant’s Translation), IX. 618-636. 

A sacrifice to Poseidon similar to that described here is spoken 
of in the Odyssey, III. 30-60. 


2 J6 


Notes . 


Note ii.— The Labors of Heracles. Page 140. 

It seems to have been one of the unexplainable decrees of fate, 
that Heracles should serve Eurystheus twelve years, and that at 
his bidding he should perform the most difficult undertakings. 
The account of the twelve labors of Heracles, undertaken by 
command of his master, belongs to a later age than that of Homer. 
The twelve labors were as follows : — 

1. The fight with the Nemean lion. 

2. The fight with the Lernaean hydra. 

3. Capture of the Arcadian stag. 

4. Destruction of the Erymanthian boar. 

5. Cleansing the stables of Augeas. 

6. Putting to flight the Harpjes, or Stymphalian birds. 

7. Capture of the Cretan bull. 

8. Capture of the mares of Thracian Diomede. 

9. Seizure of the girdle of the queen of the Amazons. 

10. Capture of the oxen of Geryones. 

11. Fetching the golden apples of the Hesperides. 

1 2. Bringing Cerberus from the lower world. 

Note 12. Page 1 51. 

The description of the palace of Tyndareus given here has 
many points of resemblance to the description of the palace of 
Alcinous. — See Odyssey , VII. 85. 

Note 13. The Vengeance of Odysseus. Page 224. 

Palamedes, according to the ancient story, went to Troy with 
the heroes, where he distinguished himself by his wisdom and 
courage. But Odysseus, who could never forgive him, caused a 
captive Phrygian to write to Palamedes a letter in the name of 
Priam, and bribed a servant of Palamedes to conceal the letter 
under his master’s bed. He then accused Palamedes of treachery. 


Notes. 


277 


Upon searching the tent, the letter was found, and Palamedes was 
stoned to death. When Palamedes was led to death, he exclaimed, 
“ Truth, I lament thee, for thou hast died even before me ! ” There 
are other stories as to the manner of the death of Palamedes. Some 
say that Odysseus and Diomede induced him to descend into a 
well, where they pretended they had discovered a treasure ; and 
when he was below, they cast stones upon him, and killed him. 
Others state that he was drowned by them while fishing; and others 
that he was killed by Paris with an arrow. — See Smith's Classical 
Dictionary. 

Note 14. — The Garden of Lycomedes. Page 230. 

The curious reader may find in the description of the garden 
of Alcinous (Odyssey, VII. 85, et seq.) some resemblance to the 
description here given of the garden of Lycomedes. 

Note 15. — The Caskets of Zeus. Page 233. 

“ Beside Jove’s threshold stand 
Two casks of gifts for man. One cask contains 
The evil, one the good ; and he to whom 
The Thunderer gives them mingled sometimes falls 
Into misfortune, and is sometimes crowned 
With blessings. But the man to whom he gives 
The evil only stands a mark exposed 
To wrong, and, chased by grim calamity, 

Wanders the teeming earth, alike unloved 
By gods and men.” — The Iliad, XXIV. 663-672. 

Note 16. — Death of Ajax. Page 258. 

“The soul of Ajax, son of Telamon, alone stood apart, being 
still angry for the victory wherein I prevailed against him, in the 
suit by the ships concerning the arms of Achilles that his lady 
mother had set for a prize; and the sons of the Trojans made 
award and Pallas Athend. Would that I had never prevailed and 
won such a prize 1 " — Odyssey , XI. 544-548. 













i 























INDEX TO PROPER NAMES. 


[ The figures in parentheses indicate the page or pages on which the name 

receives fullest mention. ] 

Acarnanla (3, 72), the most western province of Hellas. 

Acastus (92), son of Pelias, king of Iolcos ; he was slain by Peleus. 

Achaia (5), the northern coast of Peloponnesus. 

Achilles (91, 109, 225-236, 246, 255), son of Peleus and the sea-nymph 
Thetis. The chief hero among the Hellenes. 

Actaeon (87), a celebrated huntsman. He was changed by Artemis into 
a stag, and torn to pieces by his own dogs. 

Admetus (90, 166), king of Pherae in Thessaly. 

^Eson (80), son of Cretheus, and father of Jason. He was excluded from 
the kingship of Iolcos by his half-brother Pelias. 

^tolia (5), a country north of the Corinthian Gulf (Bay of Crissa), and 
east of Acarnania. 

Agamemnon (150, 233, 238, 251), king of Mycenae, and commander-in- 
chief of the Hellenic forces in the war against Troy. 

Ajax Telamon, sometimes called the greater Ajax (150, 234, 257), son 
of Telamon, king of Salamis. He was a nephew of Peleus, and 
hence a cousin of Achilles. 

Ajax Oileus, sometimes called the lesser Ajax (151, 234), son of Oileus, 
king of the Locrians. 

Alcestis (166), daughter of Pelias, and wife of Admetus. 

Alpheus (132), a river which flows through Arcadia and Elis. 

Althea (65), the mother of Meleager. 

Amphithea (53), grandmother of Odysseus. 

Amphitryon (55), the stepfather of Heracles. 

Anticleia (2, 219), daughter of Autolycus, and mother of Odysseus. 

Antilochus (131, 151), son of Nestor. 

Aphareus (125, 187), founder of the town of Arene in Messene, and 
father of Idas and Lynceus. 

279 


28 o 


Index to Proper Names. 


Aphrodite (99-110, 160), goddess of love and beauty. 

Apollo (37-46, 189, 208), son of Zeus and Leto. He was the god of 
prophecy and of music and song, the punisher of evil, and the helper 
of men. 

Arcadia (5, 132), a country in the middle of the Peloponnesus. 

Ares (223), the god of war. Mars. 

Arethusa (133), a sea-nymph. 

Argo (2, 89), the ship upon which Jason and his companions sailed to 
Colchis. 

Argolis, see Argos. 

Argonauts (2, 67), “the sailors of the Argo.” 

Argos (2, 3), a name frequently applied by Homer to the whole of the 
Peloponnesus. A district north of Laconia, often called Argolis. 

Argus (196), a monster having a hundred eyes, appointed by Here to be 
the guardian of Io. 

Artemis (134, 239), daughter of Zeus and Leto, and the twin-sister of 
Apollo. She was the goddess of the chase, and the protectress 
of the young and helpless. Diana. 

Asclepius (87-90), son of Apollo, and god of the healing art. PEscula- 
pius. 

Atalanta (68, 162), daughter of Iasus and Clymene ; the fleet-footed wife 
of Milanion. 

Athene (10, 14,99-105) goddess of wisdom, and “queen of the air;” 
often called Pallas Athene. Minerva. 

Atropos (66, 98), one of the Fates. 

Aulis (233, 239-251), a harbor in Boeotia, on the Euripus. 

Autolycus (48), the grandfather of Odysseus. 

Balios and Xanthos (97), the horses of Peleus. 

BceStla, a district north of the Corinthian Gulf, bounded on the east by 
the Euripus, and on the west by Phocis. 

Bosphorus (197), the “oxford,” the strait connecting the Sea of Mar- 
mora with the Black (Euxine) Sea. 

Cadmus (217), a Phoenician who settled in Hellas, and founded the city 
of Thebes. Pie is said to have brought the alphabet from Phoenicia. 

Calchas (225, 241-252), the wisest soothsayer among the Hellenes. He 
died of grief because the soothsayer Mopsus predicted things which 
he had not foreseen. 

Calydon (66-76), an ancient town and district of iEtolia, on the Evenus 
River. 

Castor (56, 68, 146, 185), twin-brother of Polydeuces. 


Index to Proper Names. 281 


Centaurs (84-86), an ancient race inhabiting Mount Pelion and the 
neighboring districts of Thessaly. 

Cephallenia (183), a large island near Ithaca. 

Charybdis (155), a dreadful whirlpool on the side of a narrow strait 
opposite Scylla. 

Cheiron (58, 78, 170), a Centaur, “the wisest of men,” and the teacher 
of the heroes. 

Chryse (252), an island in the A Egaean Sea ; also a city on the coast of 
Asia Minor, south of Troy. 

Circe (270), daughter of Helios, a sorceress who lived in the island of 
Eaea. 

Cleopatra (67-76), wife of Meleager. 

Clotho (66, 98), one of the Fates. 

Clytemnestra (152, 242-252), daughter of Tyndareus and Leda, and 
sister of Castor and Polydeuces and Helen. She was married to 
Agamemnon, and became the mother of Iphigenia and Orestes. 

Colchis (2, 87-89), a country of Asia, at the eastern extremity of the 
Black Sea. 

Copais (40), a lake in Boeotia. 

Corinth (5, 49, no), a city on the isthmus between the Corinthian Gulf 
and the .Egaean Sea. 

Corycia (51), a nymph who lived on Mount Parnassus. 

Crissa (5, 29), the ancient name of the Gulf of Corinth ; also, the name 
of a town in Phocis. 

Cronus (11,182), the youngest of the Titans, and the father of Zeus. 
Saturn. 

Cythera (165), an island off the south-western point of Laconia. 

Deianeira (142, 171-181), wife of Heracles. 

Delos (38), the smallest of the Cyclades islands in the Egsean Sea. 

Delphi (5, 30-45), a town on the southern slope of Mount Parnassus. 

Deucalion (200), son of Prometheus, and father of Hellen. 

Diomede (151, 235), son of Tydeus, and king of Argos. 

Dodona (171, 225), an ancient oracle of Hellas, situated in Epirus in a 
grove of oaks and beeches. 

Echion (61, 76), son of Autolycus. 

Elis (125), a country on the western coast of the Peloponnesus, south of 
Achaia. 

Epaphos (16, 198), son of Zeus and Io. 

Eris (98), the goddess of discord. 

Erymanthus (139), a mountain in Arcadia. 


282 Index to Proper Names. 


Euboea, the largest island of the iEgaean Sea, separated from Boeotia by 
the Euripus. 

Eumaeus (114-119), the swineherd of Ithaca. 

Euripus (233), the narrow strait between Euboea and Boeotia. 

Eurycleia (12), the nurse of Odysseus and of Telemachus. 

Eurystheus (138), the master of Heracles, king of Argolis. 

Eurytion (71, 92), king of Phthia. 

Eurytion (85), a Centaur. 

Eurytus (55, 136-144), king of (Echalia. 

Evenus (176), a river in ^Etolia. 

Ganymedes (208), the most beautiful of mortals, son of Tros. 

Glaucus (25), a fisherman who became immortal by eating of the divine 
herb which Cronus had sown. 

Gorgons (27), three daughters of Phorcys and Ceto. 

Gray Sisters (26), daughters of Phorcys. 

Hades (89, 170), the god of the lower regions. Pluto. 

Hebe (98), the goddess of youth. 

Hector (101, 255), son of Priam ; the chief hero of the Trojans. 

Helen (145-162, 216, 267), daughter of Tyndareus and Leda of Lacedae- 
mon, represented in mythology as the daughter of Zeus and Leda. 
“ The most beautiful woman in the world.” 

Helenus (258), son of Priam, soothsayer of the Trojans. 

Helios (5, 15-19), the god of the sun. Sol. 

Hellas, the name which the Greeks applied to their country. Greece. 
Hellen (203), son of Deucalion and Pyrrha, and ancestor of all the 
Hellenes. 

Hephaestus (90, 160, 193), the god of fire. Vulcan. 

Here (99-105), the wife of Zeus. Juno. 

Heracles (55, 87-90, 138-144, 169-181, 211-214), the most celebrated of 
all the old heroes. Hercules. 

Hermes (100-104, 196), the herald of the gods, son of Zeus and Maia. 
Mercury. 

Heslone (210-213), the sister of Priam. 

Hesperia (19), “the western land.” 

Hesperides (5, 27, 139), guardians of the golden apples which Earth 
gave to Here on her marriage day — said by some to be the daugh- 
ters of Phorcys and Ceto. 

Hippodameia (84, 167) wife of Peirithous. 

Hyllus (176), son of Heracles. 

Hyperboreans (6, 39), a people living in the far North. 


Index to Proper Names. 


283 


Iasus (163), an Arcadian, father of Atalanta. 

Icarius (155, 162), brother of Tyndareus, and father of Penelope. 

Ida (102-109, 208), a mountain-range of Mysia in Asia Minor, east of Troy. 
Idas (67, 185), “the boaster,” son of Aphareus, and father of Cleopatra. 
Idomeneus (151, 215, 235), king of Crete. 

Ilios (206-214, 253), a name applied to the district in which Troy was 
situated. Ilium. 

Ilus (208), son of Dardanus. 

Inachus (196), the first king of Argos. 

Io (196-199), daughter of Inachus, and mother of Epaphos from whom 
was descended Heracles. 

Iolcos (77-110), an ancient town of Thessaly at the head of the 
Pegasaean Gulf. 

Iole (138-144, 173-181), daughter of Eurytus of CEchalia, beloved by 
Heracles. 

Iphigenla (242-252), daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. 
Iphitus (136-153, 172), son of Eurytus, one of the Argonauts. 

Ithaca (1, 1 13), a small island in the Ionian Sea, the birthplace of 
Odysseus. 

Jason (2, 68, 87), leader of the Argonauts. 

Lacedaemon (5, 145-169, 189-204), a district of Laconia in which was 
situated Sparta. The name is also applied to the town of Sparta. 
Lachesis (66), one of the Fates. 

Laconia (5, 145), a country in the south-east of Peloponnesus. 

Laertes (2, 182), king of Ithaca, father of Odysseus. 

LaodamTa (254), daughter of Acastus, and wife of Protesilaus. 
Laomedon (208-214), king of Troy, father of Priam. 

Lapiths (84), a people inhabiting the country adjoining Mount Pelion 
in Thessaly. 

Leda ( 146), wife of Tyndareus of Lacedaemon. 

Lemnos (253, 260), an island in the iEgaean Sea. 

Lichas (1 74-1 79), the herald of Heracles. 

Linus (56), a musician, brother of Orpheus. 

Lycomedes (228), king of Scyros. 

Lydia (173), a district of Asia Minor. 

Lynceus (185), son of Aphareus, brother of Idas. 

Machaon (151, 262), son of Asclepius, the surgeon of the Greeks in the 
Trojan war. 

Medea (89), daughter of iEetes, king of Colchis, celebrated for her 
skill in magic. 


284 Index to Proper Names. 


Medusa (27), one of the Gorgons. 

Meleager (66-76), son of Oineus and Althea, husband of Cleopatra. 
Menelaus (150, 234), brother of Agamemnon, and husband of Helen. 
Messene (120), a country in the south-western part of the Peloponnesus. 
Milanion (163), the husband of Atalanta. 

Mycenae (150), an ancient town in Argolis. 

Mysia (239), a country in Asia Minor. 

Nedon (131), a river of Messene. 

Neleus (125, 173), son of Poseidon and Tyro, brother of Pelias, and 
father of Nestor. 

Nessus (176), a Centaur, ferryman at the River Evenus. 

Nestor (125, 235), king of Pylos, son of Neleus. 

Nireus (151, 160, 235), one of the heroes of the Trojan war. 

Oceanus (194), god of the Ocean. 

Odysseus, the hero of this story, son of Laertes, husband of Penelope. 
Ulysses. 

CEchalia (138, 174), a town supposed to be somewhere in Euboea. 
CEnone (103, 263), daughter of the river-god Cebren, and wife of Paris. 
CEta ( 17 1, 180), a rugged pile of mountains in the south of Thessaly. 
Oineus (65), king of Pleuron and Calydon. 

Olympus (5, 79), a mountain in Thessaly, on the summit of which Zeus 
held his court. 

Omphale (173), a queen of Lydia. 

Orestes (244), son of Agamemnon. 

Orpheus (248), the greatest of the old musicians. 

Orsilochus (129, 134), son of Alpheus, king of Messene. 

Ortygia (134), an island near the coast of Sicily. 

Palamedes (166, 217-224), son of Nauplius, king of Euboea. 

Pallas Athene, see Athene. 

Paris (101-110, 204-216), son of Priam of Troy. 

Parnassus (5, 30-36, 201), a mountain, or group of mountains, a few 
miles north of the Corinthian Gulf. 

Patroclus (227, 234), the friend of Achilles. 

Peirlthous (84, 167), king of the Lapiths, son of Ixion and Dia. 

Peleus (71, 91-100, 227), son of ^Eacus and Endeis the daughter of 
Cheiron. 

Pelias (80, 125), son of Poseidon and Tyro, and brother of Neleus. He 
made himself king of Iolcos, by excluding his half-brother ^Eson 
from the throne. 

Pellon (79-110), a lofty mountain in Thessaly not far from Iolcos. 


Index to Proper Names . 


285 


Peloponnesus, all that part of Hellas south of the Corinthian Gulf 
(Bay of Crissa). 

Penelope (152, 162-168), daughter of Icarius, cousin of Helen, and wife 
of Odysseus. 

Perseus (27), one of the older heroes, son of Zeus and Danae. 

Phaeihon (15-19), son of Helios and Clymene. 

Phemius (3, 14), a celebrated minstrel. 

Pherae, or Pharae (130-144), an ancient town in Messene on the river 
Nedon. Also (90), a town in Thessaly of which Admetus was 
king. 

Philoctetes (159, 180, 252, 260-263), a friend of Heracles, and the most 
celebrated archer in the Trojan war. 

Phorcys (20-27), “the old man of the sea.” 

Phthia (92), a district in the south-east of Thessaly. 

Polydeuces (146, 185), brother of Castor and Helen. Pollux . 

Poseidon (22-27, 208), the god of the sea. Neptune. 

Priam (101, 207-214), the last king of Troy, son of Laomedon, and father 
of Hector and Paris. 

Prometheus (191-203), a Titan, son of Iapetus, the friend of man. 

Protesilaus (254), a hero from Phylace in Thessaly. 

Proteus (23), the prophetic shepherd of the sea. 

Pylos (125-131), a town on the south-west coast of Messene. 

Pyrrha (201), the w r ife of Deucalion. 

Pyrrhus (259-262), the son of Achilles, also called Neoptolemus. 

Pythia (34), a name applied to the priestess of Apollo at Delphi. 

Rhadamanthus (6, 56), son of Zeus and Europa, and judge and ruler in 
the Islands of the Blest. 

Scandia (164), a harbor in Cythera. 

Scylla (155), a monster with six heads, which guarded one side of a 
narrow strait. 

Scyros (228, 259), a small island east of Euboea. 

Sinon (265), a grandson of Autolycus, and cousin of Odysseus. 

Sisyphus (49), son of ^Elus He is said to have built the town of Ephyra, 
afterward Corinth. 

Sparta, see Lacedaemon. 

Stymphalus (139), a town in the north-east of Arcadia. 

Syma ( 1 51 ), a small island off the south-western coast of Caria in Asia 
Minor. 

Syria, or Syra (115), one of the Cyclades islands. 

Talthybius (250), the herald of Agamemnon. 


286 


Index to Proper Names. 


Taygetes (149, 185), a lofty range of mountains between Laconia and 
Messene. 

Telamon (214), son of iEacus and Endeis, and brother of Peleus, king 
of Salamis. He was the father of Ajax by Peribcea, his second wife ; 
after the death of Periboea, he married Hesione, the sister of Priam. 
Telemachus (219), the son of Odysseus and Penelope. 

Telephus (239, 241, 252), son of Heracles and Auge, and king of Mysia. 
Theseus (147), the great hero of Attica, and king of Athens. 

Thessaly, the largest division of Hellas. 

Thetis (95), a sea-nymph, wife of Peleus, and mother of Achilles. 
Tilphussa (40), a nymph dwelling at Lake Copais. 

Tiryns (143), a city in Argolis, not far from Mycenae. 

Trachis (143, 17 1), a town of Thessaly. 

Trophonius (41), one of the architects of the temple at Delphi. 
Tyndareus (146-169, 184-188), king of Lacedaemon. 

Zacynthus (183), an island west of Messene. 

Zeus (182, 191), son of Cronus, “ the ruler of gods and men.” Jupiter. 


Charles Scribner’s Sons’ 


New and Standard Books for 
Young Readers for 1897=98... 


MRS. BURNETT’S 
FAMOUS JUVENILES 

An entirely new edition of Mrs. Burnett’s famous 
juveniles from new plates, with all the original 
Illustrations. Bound in a beautiful new cloth bind- 
ing designed by R. B. Birch, and sold at very much 
reduced prices, 

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY 
TWO LITTLE PILGRIMS’ PROGRESS 
SARA CREWE and LITTLE SAINT ELIZABETH AND 
OTHER STORIES (in one vol.) 

PICCINO AND OTHER CHILD STORIES 
GIOVANNI AND THE OTHER 

Five Volumes, is mo, each, $1*25 


The original editions can still be supplied at the former prices : 

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. Beautifully illustrated by Reginald B. Birch. 
Square 8vo, $2.00. 

TWO LITTLE PILGRIMS’ PROGRESS. A Story of the City Beautiful. 
By Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett. Illustrated by Reginald B. Birch. 
Uniform with “ Fauntleroy,” etc. Square 8vo, $1.50. 

SARA CREWE ; or, What Happened at Miss Minchin’s. Richly and fully 
illustrated by Reginald B. Birch. Square 8vo, $1.00. 

LITTLE SAINT ELIZABETH, and Other Stories. With 12 full-page draw- 
ings by Reginald B. Birch. Square 8vo, $1.50. 

GIOVANNI AND THE OTHER: Children who have made Stories. With 
9 full-page illustrations by Reginald B. Birch. Square 8vo, $1.50. 

PICCINO, and other Child Stories. Fully illustrated by Reginald B. Birch. 
Square 8 vo, 11.5a t , . , . , >■ 


SCRIBNERS ‘BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG 


Q, A. HENTY’S POPULAR STORIES 
FOR BOYS 

New Volumes for 1897-98. Each, crown 8vo, handsomely illustrated, $1.50. 

Mr. Henty, the most popular writer of Books of Ad- 
venture in England, adds three new volumes to his 
list this fall — books that will delight thousands of 
boys on this side who have become his ardent admirers 

WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT. A Tale of the Seven Years’ War. With 
12 full-page illustrations. i2mo, $1.50. 

This story, more than any other of Mr. Henty ’s, follows closely the historic lines, 
and no better description of the memorable battles of Rossbach, Leuthen, Prague, 
Zorndorf, Hochkirch, and Torgau can be found anywhere than is given in this 
volume. Through the historic part there runs the record of the daring and 
hazardous adventures of the hero, so that the charm of romance is given to the 
whole narrative. It is one of the most important volumes Mr. Henty has written. 


A MARCH ON LONDON. A Story of Wat Tyler’s Rising. With 8 full-page 
illustrations by W. H. Margetson. i2mo, $1.50. 

This book weaves together, in a most interesting way, the story of Wat Tyler’s 
rebellion under King Richard, the civil war in Flanders which occurred soon 
after, and the ill-planned attack upon the French led by the Bishop of Norfolk. 
The whole story is singularly interesting, covering as it does a period of history 
which i6 but little known and which is well worth narrating. 


WITH MOORE AT CORUNNA. A Story of the Peninsular War. With 12 
full-page illustrations by Wal. Paget, iemo, $1.50. 

A bright Irish lad, Terence O’Connor, is living with his widowed father, Captain 
O’Connor of the Mayo Fusiliers, with the regiment, at the time when the Penin- 
sular War against Napoleon began. Under the command of Sir John Moore, he 
shared in the same marching and sharp fighting which that expedition experi- 
enced up to the battle of Corunna. By his bravery and great usefulness, in spite 
of his youth, he received a commission as colonel in the Portuguese army, and 
during the remainder of the war rendered great services, being mentioned twice 
in the general orders of the Duke of Wellington. The whole story is full of ex- 
citing military experiences and gives a most careful and accurate account of the 
conduct of the campaigns. 


SCRIBNERS ‘BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG 


MR. HENTY’S OTHER BOOKS 

Each volume with numerous illustrations ; handsomely bound. Olivine edges. 
i2mo. $1.50. 

“ Mr. Henty’s books never fail to interest boy readers. Among writers of stories 
of adventure he stands in the very first rank.” — Academy , London. 

“ No country nor epoch of history is there which Mr. Henty does not know, and 
what is really remarkable is that he always writes well and interestingly. Boys 
like stirring adventures, and Mr. Henty is a master of this method of composi- 
tion.” — New York Times. 


AT AGINCOURT. A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris. With 12 full-page 
illustrations by Wal. Paget. 

COCHRANE THE DAUNTLESS. A Tale of the Exploits of Lord Coch- 
rane in South American Waters. With 12 full-page illustrations by W. H. 
Margetson. 

ON THE IRRAWADDY. A Story of the First Burmese War. With 8 full- 
page illustrations by W. H. Overend. 

THROUGH RUSSIAN SNOWS. A Story of Napoleon’s Retreat from 
Moscow. With 8 full-page illustrations by W. H. Overend. 

A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE CROSS. A Tale of the Siege of Rhodes. 
With 12 full-page illustrations by Ralph Peacock. 

THE TIGER OF MYSORE. A Story of the War with Tippoo Said. With 
12 full-page illustrations by W. H. Margetson. 

IN THE HEART OF THE ROCKIES. A Story of Adventure in Colorado. 

WHEN LONDON BURNED. A Story of Restoration Times and the Great 
Fire. 

WULF THE SAXON. A Story of the Norman Conquest. 

ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE. A Tale of the Huguenot Wars. 

THROUGH THE SIKH WAR. A Tale of the Conquest of the Punjaub. 

A JACOBITE EXILE. Being the Adventures of a Young Englishman in 
the Service of Charles XII. of Sweden. 

CONDEMNED AS A NIHILIST. A Story of Escape from Siberia. 

BERIC THE BRITON. A Story of the Roman Invasion. 

IN GREEK WATERS. A Story of the Grecian War of Independence 
[1821-1827]. 

THE DASH FOR KHARTOUM. A Tale of the Nile Expedition. 

REDSKIN AND COWBOY. A Tale of the Western Plains. 

HELD FAST FOR ENGLAND. A Tale of the Sif.ge of Gibraltar. 


SCRIBNERS ‘BOOK FOR THE YOUNG 


SOME OF THE NEWEST BOOKS 


WILL SHAKESPEARE’S LITTLE LAD. By Imogen Clark. With illustra- 
tions and cover design by R. B. Birch. i2mo, $1.50. 

A story, full of warm color and brisk movement, of Stratford life in Shakespeare’s 
day, the local atmosphere being reflected with rare fidelity, and the hero, the 
poet’s son, being drawn with sympathy and charm. 


CHILD POEMS. By Eugene Field. With an introduction by Kenneth 
Grahame and profusely illustrated by Charles Robinson. Uniform with Robert 
Louis Stevenson’s “ Child’s Garden of Verses,” also illustrated by Charles Robin- 
son. i2mo, #1.50. 

THE STEVENSON SONG BOOK. Verses from “ A Child’s Garden,” by 
Robert Louis Stevenson. With music by various composers. A companion 
volume to the Field-DeKoven song book printed last year. Large 8vo, $2.00. 


AN OLD-FIELD SCHOOL GIRL. By Marion Harland. With 8 full-page 
illustrations. i2mo, $1.25. 


LORDS OF THE WORLD. By Alfred J. Church. A Story of the Fall of 
Carthage and Corinth. With 12 full-page illustrations by Ralph Peacock. 
i2mo, $1.50. 

The scene of this story centres in the overthrow and destruction of Carthage by 
the Romans. The story is full of valuable historical details and the interest never 
flags. 

HEROES OF OUR NAVY. By Molly Elliot Seawell. Illustrated, nmo. 
In press. 

Never has this entertaining writer been more felicitous than in the present 
volume. 


0 



THE LAST CRUISE OF THE MOHAWK. By W. J. Henderson. Illustrated 
by Harry Edwards. i2tno, $1.25. 

The book is crowded with dramatic incident — mutiny, shipwreck, Farragut’s 
great fight in Mobile Bay — and the narrative is as simple as the events and 
characters are entertaining. 


























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